Tourist
by Lorelai Pattern
Summary: He eventually does take her to Rome, and they wander through the cobblestone streets, hand in hand. He offers her the world, and she takes it.
1. Chapter 1

**/|\ Tourist /|\**

**Spoilers for 3x14 - Dangerous Liaisons **

* * *

><p>|\

When Caroline finally shows up for school, the first thing she does is compel the attendance office to magically fix her absences. She knows she should feel guilty, but truthfully, she doesn't. She feels relieved. She had been caught up with her own drama, as well as dragged down by Elena's never ending adventure.

The old secretary in the office blinks at her, and she repeats in a blank voice, "Caroline Forbes has only been absent once this year."

Caroline nods grimly. "And now you're gonna go fix that in the system..."

"Going to... fix it... in system..." She mutters, before shuffling off into the back room.

Of course, just because she fixed her attendance problem doesn't mean that her grades were any better.

All day, from class to class, she compels her teachers for better grades. Again, she knew she should feel guilt and anxiety gnawing at her insides – and she feels slightly ashamed of herself for feeling nothing. She knows that to get out of Mystic Falls and get into a good college, she has to do this. She wanted to see the world, not stay in this town anymore.

Second to last period, she knows better than to try to compel Alaric, the vampire hunter pumped full of vervain, but she still pleads with him until he relents and changes her grade from a D- to a B+.

"You know," He grumbles as he gathers up his lesson plans. "You should go to the library. And study. Finals are coming up, and you can't compel your way through those."

She tries to show some decency by looking sheepish. Alaric gives her a knowing look, but exits the classroom.

At first, she meanders through the hallways, fully committed to the idea of wasting away her last period, before she saw the library's large glass door.

"Why not?" She mutters, before yanking it open.

She wanders the aisles, her fingers absentmindedly running against the spines of the books. Eventually, Caroline finds herself in the travel section. Casually, she pulls out the travel guides to Rome, Paris, and Tokyo. She flips through the pages, her eyes taking in the colorful pictures.

"Oh, hell." She hisses to herself, stuffing the books into her bag.

She doesn't even check the books out before she storms out of the library and to her car.

/|\

She ends up at the Grill, two of her books stacked haphazardly on the bar as she nurses a shot of tequila. The guide to Rome she had stolen lay open in front of her as she read about the Vatican Museum.

"Drinking at two in the afternoon, sweetheart?"

She freezes, before slamming the book closed. "Klaus. What are you doing here?"

The man in question grins at her, taking a seat next to her. "You know," he says, ignoring her accusation. "I have a painting hanging in the Vatican."

Caroline scoffs. "Oh really?" _Of course you do, _She adds to herself mentally.

Klaus leans forward, sliding her shot of tequila away from her. "What, you don't believe me?"

She narrows her eyes. He was watching her earnestly as he tips the rest of the drink down his throat without flinching.

"Look, I gotta go." She finally mumbles in response, pushing the books back into her bag as she slides from the barstool.

"Interesting choice of literature, love," He calls after her, speaking to her back. She could practically _hear _the smirk in his voice.

She seethes inwardly and pushes the Grill's door closed with the high heel of her boot.

/|\

The travel books were never returned to the library. They remained stacked on her desk, next to the carefully drawn sketch of a girl and a horse. The books were full of dog-eared pages, highlighted passages, and sticky-notes.

He eventually does take her to Rome, and they wander through the cobblestone streets, hand in hand. They go from art museum to art museum, Klaus offering his own opinions and the occasional back story as they go along. He offers her the finest cuisine, from high-end restaurants to eating gelato sold from a stand at the top of the Spanish Steps.

She drags him to churches, and eagerly reads off facts from pamphlets about each one. He finds himself watching her instead of his surroundings.

(He doesn't tell her that he's been to almost all of them, only smiles at her and plays with her golden curls as he listens.)

Klaus takes her to see his painting in the Vatican Museum. She smirks, and critiques him – even though they both know it's perfect.

Late at night, they sit on top of the Coliseum, their legs dangling over the sides as they gaze out at the city lights and the Tiber river. Klaus sketches on a large sketchbook with a piece of charcoal, his eyes flicking up towards the cityscape. And she watches him patiently, her eyes raking over his furrowed brow and the way his tongue pokes out of his mouth subconsciously to wet his lips. She smiles.

He pauses and looks over at her, one eyebrow raised. "Yes, Caroline?"

"I think I'm in the mood for crème brûlée." The French word rolls of her tongue delicately.

Klaus nods and smiles, closing his sketchbook and offering her his charcoal-stained hand.

She takes it.

/|\

Caroline forces him to climb to the top of the Eiffel Tower twice, one for the sun rise and one for the sunset. Klaus thought it was ridiculous to do it twice, but her excited smile stops him, and he gladly runs after her up all 1,710 steps to the summit. Twice. He admits to her the views were worth it.

He takes her to see his painting in the Louvre.

"You did not paint the_ Mona Lisa_!" Caroline growls quietly, her arms crossed as she gazes at the small portrait.

Klaus grins smugly. "And who's to say I didn't?"

She doesn't have a response.

After the Musée d'Orsay, he takes her to Les Catacombes, the tunnel network running under Paris, making her wrinkle her nose.

"You're taking me to see the graves of six million people?" She asks warily.

He chuckles and grabs her hand and starts running at vampire speed; they flash by the tour guides and the never-ending groups of people. "No, I'm taking you to see what the tours don't show you."

However, she followed his lead, and together they explored rooms and passageways previously unknown to the public, camping lanterns held in front of them for light.

"The last time I was here was during the French Revolution." He tells her as they make their way out back into the sunlight. They people watch while sitting on a street corner café, sipping coffees and munching on éclairs.

At night, they sit on top of the Arc de Triomphe, and he sketches her with the Eiffel Tower in the background as she watch all the cars and double-decker tour buses pass by.

"I think it's time to teach you how to make sushi, love." He remarks casually when he finally looks up from his drawing.

He reaches his hand out to her, palm upturned.

She takes it.

/|\

True to his word, Klaus teaches her how to make sushi in Tokyo, in the kitchen of their penthouse.

"So much better than that crap imitation of sushi back home," She gushes happily as she cleans up the leftovers. When she finishes, she leans back up against the counter, her head tilted to the side as she looks at him.

Klaus corners her, pressing his hands into her hips and burrowing his nose into the crook of her neck.

Caroline grins and runs her fingers through his short-cropped hair. "Is there anything else you want to teach me?" She murmurs huskily into his ear.

He growls at her, and she laughs and pulls him closer.

Needless to say, they don't talk for a while.

Afterward, he pulls her through the crowded streets of Tokyo, and eventually wander through the Tsukiji, the world's largest fish market. She watches with fascination as men cut through fillets and threw fish across the aisles to other kiosks. He takes her to the top of the red Tokyo Tower, and finds himself watching the way her hair blows in the breeze instead of the view. He likes to think of her as his own personal sun.

On Sunday, around sunset they wander through the less crowded Meiji Shrine. Caroline smiles as she watches the public wedding precession. Her eyes follow the white kimono clad figure of the bride who only had eyes for her groom.

At night, they walk through Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden, even though no one was allowed there after twilight. But the quiet tranquility of the park makes it feel like Klaus and Caroline are the only ones in the world.

They're standing next to a koi fish pond, when he suddenly pulls her close, inhaling the scent of her hair.

"Where would you like to go next?" He rumbles. His voice sends vibrations throughout her body. Her toes began to curl instinctively.

Caroline grins into his coat. "Anywhere."

He offers her the world.

She takes it.

/|\

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, I've been in love with Klaroline since mid-season two when Klaus was first mentioned. And now it's almost canon! Please note that English is not my first language, so if I switch from different tenses or am grammatically incorrect, sorry! Here's to hoping for many more KlausCaroline on the show!**

**Please leave a review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**/|\ Tourist /|\**

**Spoilers for 3x14 - Dangerous Liaisons**

* * *

><p>|\

Caroline convinces Klaus to drive across the country with her. Of course, what she calls "convincing" is, in fact, her pestering him until he gives in. He complains, and dangles the opportunity to visit Stonehenge and London and lost tropical islands his family just _seems_ to always own, as if to distract her. She gets bored of planes quickly, and often she quips at him, "You're the Original Hybrid, aren't you? Shouldn't your almighty powers extend to walking across water?"

Eventually, he acquiesces. (Truthfully, he would take her anywhere in a heartbeat just to see the smile light up her face.) However, there is one condition on his part:

"How about a motorcycle instead of a car?"

Caroline had heard all of the horror stories about motorcycle accidents her mother had come home and told her after a long day at work. But, she thought, she wasn't technically alive and almost indestructible. She knows she should be concerned about weather, but Klaus' eyes were piercing hers, a look of boyish amusement crossing his features and she really couldn't concentrate with his callused fingers stroking her thigh like that.

So she shrugs, "Why not?"

The pair start off in Maine, sampling wonderful sea food dishes and splashing in the high waves of the Atlantic ocean, and they began to make their way down the East Coast. They stop the longest in New York City – a total time of four days. Caroline tries to pack as many tourist-y things to do, such as Broadway and the observatory deck at the top of the Empire State building. She remarks how beautiful the view is.

He agrees, but doesn't tell her he was watching her instead.

They visit the memorial at Ground Zero, where the World Trade Center used to tower over the skyline. It's a somber affair, Caroline reflects to herself as she runs her fingers over the names carved into stone. With sudden inspiration, she turns towards Klaus, who was staring at her intently.

"Where were you during 9/11?" He doesn't answer her, but his eyes look sad, and she begins to ramble with slight nervousness. "I mean – I was um, six at the time, and I-... I only remember the school's being shut down and going home early but..."

She looks back at the memorial awkwardly, her fingernails tapping the surface. The coolness radiates into her hand. She suddenly feels his presence behind her, his chest gently brushing against her back. His hands snake in between her arm and her body and grasp at her hand.

"I was in that building over there... across the way," He croaks out finally, as if it were painful, and Caroline follows the direction his eyes are looking at. Sympathy and dread stabbed at her abdomen; her stomach seemed to want to climb up her throat to escape, and she had to refrain from gasping aloud.

She leans her head back, so her neck is resting against his shoulder, as if to offer him silent comfort with her close proximity.

They leave New York City the day after that, the two wheels and the roar of the engine blocking out the melancholia that seemed to follow them.

/|\

In the moments surrounded by absolutely nothing, Caroline feels strangely at peace.

The gray road stretches out forever, straight and never-ending, and she watches the cracks pass by in a blur underneath the tires of the motorcycle. The rumble of the machine is so familiar it's almost calming, she muses to herself.

Warm sunlight brushes against her face, but she doesn't dare close her eyes to enjoy the sensation. She doesn't want to miss the beautiful sight of Monument Valley. The large red stones stand erect over the horizon, as if they were blending into the orange and pink stained sky of the sunset.

The color of the sand and rock matches the sky to such a degree that she can't tell where the world ends and heaven begins.

No matter how long they drive, the warped rocks didn't get smaller or fade into the distance. She watches them for a while, before Klaus fills the comforting and familiar silence with the sound of the radio. The motorcycle's radio itself is tinny, and had to be turned up loud over the sound of the engine, but neither comments on it as an old hit streams from the small speakers.

Caroline listens to the song for several moments. She hasn't listened to sixties music in a while; it reminded her of her murdered and then turned vampire father – who is gone forever.

_Probably looking at me from - well, whichever afterlife exists and is screaming at me for even associating myself with the likes of Klaus. _She hazards a guess. Her own thought process stings.

"So you're a sixties man?" She questions, desperate to get out of the clutches of the thoughts of her dead parent.

Klaus looks almost nostalgic. "The sixties were the best."

She grins and buries her face into the back of his jacket. Her grip around his waist tightens. She could almost hear him smile, and one hand begins stroking her leg as his head turns to look at her sitting behind him.

"Hey!" Caroline teases. "Keep your eyes on the road and your hands on the handlebars!"

"Like I'd let us crash," He chuckles, and his hand reluctantly leaves her body and grips the handlebar again. He is still looking at her though, and her eyes narrow playfully. He arches an eyebrow, before he turns back to the road.

She hears him hum along to the occasional song.

They eventually pass the border of Utah and Arizona, and several moments later, the large green sign stating 'Welcome to Arizona' passes by.

"Oh!" She squeals suddenly, ignoring the way Klaus comically twitches in surprise at her outburst. "We gotta go to the Grand Canyon!"

He acts like he's contemplating it (when they both know he would take her anywhere) and nods.

"Then we'll find a nice spot so you can sketch the canyon or something." She continues, and sighs happily.

Klaus smirks to himself as they drive down the road. He wonders if she knows that his entire sketch book is filled with a variety of drawings of her.

After they are done exploring every nook and cranny of the canyon, when they're sitting on a large rock formation and she's half asleep, drowsy in the sun, Klaus contemplates telling her.

Later, he decides, closing the book. He lays down on his back next to her, his arms behind his head.

He'll tell her later.

/|\

Klaus can tell she's instantly worried in Russia. He understands, truly, he does, because he has lived through the genuine fear of the once strong Soviets and the Red Scare. Caroline doesn't voice her concern, but allows him to drag her Moscow Palace, with it's large domes capped with gold and beautiful white walls that seemed to stretch on and on.

"I stayed here, once. They tried to marry off a princess to me," He says idly.

His hands were stuffed in his pockets, a scarf wrapped around his neck. Even though vampires don't feel cold, both Klaus and Caroline felt it nip at their fingers and go down into their bones. Caroline flicked up the collar of her pea coat to ward off the below freezing winds.

"Of course, she wasn't nearly as beautiful as you, love."

"Nice save." She mutters sarcastically, but the right corner of her mouth quirks upward to show him she isn't that serious.

Klaus smiles, pulls her closer, and presses a kiss to her temple.

Later, they're studying the fascinating twists, twirls, and bright colors of the Kremlin when the crowd in Red Square grows thick, and separates them.

Caroline shrugs to herself, and begins to walk on the edge of the square, examining the tourist booths set up to draw in travelers with too much money to spend on useless souvenirs.

Suddenly, something sharp pierces her lower back, and she gasps out. Her arms flail out, and she falls backwards, only to be caught roughly by someone unfamiliar.

The vervain paralyzes her, but still allows her to writhe in agony as she's dragged down a back alley. She feels a stake enter her stomach, and a screech finally erupts from her throat, tearing at her vocal chords.

Caroline can't see her attackers face, but she hears him panting. Her vision is starting to black out, and her assailant removes the wooden weapon from her stomach with quick precision. She's about to see the face of the one who will kill her, and his hand is back as if preparing to strike and she squeezes her eyes shut and is constantly thinking in a mantra of_ I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry_ -

A growl sounds behind her – loud and feral, but she instantly feels relief. Her eyes open wide, her fingers twitching as her attacker is slammed into a brick wall, and she can only imagine what Klaus is doing: a hand clasped around his throat and large fangs and yellow eyes with dark veins glaring down at him in fury.

She can only see their feet. The attacker is several feet above the ground, legs flailing dramatically.

The stake clatters to the ground and rolls a little ways away.

Black spots dance across her eyes as the vervain fires through her veins, and all she hears is growling, snarling, tearing and then finally, a snap.

Caroline feels hands cradle and lift her gently, as if she is already broken, clutching her body close. Her own hand feebly reaches up to touch his face; her fingertips gently smooth his familiar blonde scruff on his cheek. She ignores the fact that the blood on his mouth stains her hands.

However, she can't ignore the blood that drips onto her forehead. It rolls down her face like a red teardrop.

"I'll never let anyone hurt you again, sweetheart, I promise," He whispers into her hair.

She believes him. He always keeps his word.

/|\

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, wow, all you Klaroline shippers, you have blown me away. Seriously, I did not expect so many favorites and all of the lovely reviews asking me to politely continue this little one-shot. Thank you! So, concerning 3x15, how cute was Klaus chasing after Caroline and um, almost getting hit by a car? Lol. Anyway, so last chapter was fluffy - so here's some... angst and violence? Please bare in mind that English is not my first language!<strong>

**Please leave a review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**/|\ Tourist /|\**

**Spoilers for 3x14 - Dangerous Liaisons**

* * *

><p>|\

Caroline's eyes suddenly pop open, but everything is slightly blurry. Every part of her aches, and she can just barely move her arms and legs. It takes her several moments for her eyes to adjust, but when they do, she realizes she's laying in the master bedroom of their expensive hotel in Moscow, surrounded by classy but neutral furniture.

Her head falls to the left of the pillow, her muscles protesting as she did so, and sees Klaus sitting in an armchair, his legs propped up on the bed. His head is slouching to the side, and he looks to be dead asleep. Large purple half moon circles seem to be carved under his eyes.

But he's covered in blood, but why we were just sightseeing, why would it be all over his face and clothes and hands and -

Caroline lets out a moan. Images flash through her head, the sight of a stake in her stomach, of vervain darts, a hunter pressed against a wall, feet flailing, blood, and then the gentle touch of Klaus, clutching her close. Her hand reaches out, covered in the anonymous man's blood, and touches his leg.

"Klaus," She whispers, her voice cracking.

His head whips up at her voice and touch, eyes widening. He propels himself from the chair, and his knees hit the ground with a quiet thud. His hands reach out, grasping her, relief plain in his eyes. She smiles back, squeezing his hands, and they stare at each other. Klaus' mouth is hanging open, words struggling in his throat, and she only squeezes his hands harder in response. The words that eventually do come out was different then the ones she was thinking of in her head.

"You – I... got you some blood bags," He gestures to the nightstand, where sure enough, two blood transfusion bags sit next to the lamp.

She's mystified, blinking at him stupidly, before she stutters out in a hoarse voice. "Um, yeah. Thanks."

Her arm can't reach the much needed sustenance, and he gets the idea that she needs help rather quickly. His hand snatches the two bags and tosses them next to her on the mattress, the liquids sloshing around inside.

She thanks him quietly, ripping the top off one of the bags and drinking it quickly. She finishes it and tosses it aside, about to tear into the other one, before her eyes flick up to him. Klaus is staring at her intently, almost clinically, his eyes raking across her face and her hair. Caroline can't count how long the silly staring match goes on, before he stands up abruptly.

"I'm going for a walk."

He's out the door before she can respond properly, and the loud slamming noise makes her heart sinks into her stomach.

While it was easy to just lie down in the bed and mope, Caroline has other plans. She quickly finishes the last blood bag, and grimaces as she looks down at her clothes. Blood covered them, and a large hole was in her shirt's stomach and back – one for the vervain injection and one for the wooden stake. She sighs, getting up slowly, and practically stumbles to the bathroom. She tries peeling off her clothes, but the dried blood sticks to her skin. Eventually, she abandons all pretenses of saving her clothes and rips them off her body. The scraps of her dirty clothes lay in the corner of the bathroom, creating red puddles on the pristine white tiles.

The scalding hot water of the shower feels heavenly, and once she regains full use of her limbs without feeling that sickening twinge of pain, she scrubs her body raw, as if trying to erase the evidence of this terrible day off of her. When she's done washing, she stands in the shower, watching the red-stained water circle down into the drain for what feels like hours.

The water runs cold, and she steps out onto a bathroom mat, running a comb through her wavy hair. She stares at the mirror, almost observing her naked body for any traces of the attack. Her hand runs over her back, and then her stomach, right above her belly button, where the wooden stake had protruded grotesquely only hours earlier.

There are no visible scars on her body.

After sliding into comfortable sweats and throwing on a baggy sweater that hangs from her body – shamelessly stolen from Klaus' suitcase – she settles down on the couch and turns on the television, flicking through all the Russian channels before reaching the only English one about worldwide news. From her spot, it gave her a good vantage point of the door. Her eyes seemed to always find their way back to it, waiting for the little light to flash, signifying the card swiping to get in.

She even tries calling Elena, which went straight to voice mail. She's about to hit send on Bonnie's number, before realizing the huge time difference, and locks her phone with a sigh. The screen goes dark, and she throws it at a chair across the room. She stares at where it disappeared in between the cushions.

...But what if Klaus calls?

She contemplates the thought, before getting up seconds later; she picks it up gingerly and places it on the coffee table in front of her.

He doesn't call.

It's four in the morning when the tell tale signs of the key card swiping and door creaking wake her out of her stupor. She sits up on the couch, and he's staring at her and she's staring right back. There are so many things to say, and she can only think of one semi-coherent word right now.

"Hey."

Klaus doesn't respond, just stares at her from the threshold.

"So, um, where were you for..." She checks the clock and counts back. "Six hours?"

He looks a little sheepish. "Wandering around Moscow and thinking."

"Were you thinking about why you were wandering around Moscow in below freezing weather?" She shoots back scathingly, her arms crossed. She notices his clothes still had blood on them, but thankfully he must've been in a stable state of mind to wash the red from his face.

If he senses her tone, he didn't seem to show it. "Well, before I was wandering, I had to dispose of a body." He gave her a knowing look. "Then I was thinking about a plane ticket for you. Back to Virginia."

That blow is hard enough to make her knees weak. Her eyebrows scrunch up and a hurt look crosses her face. "...What did you say?"

He knows she heard perfectly what he just said. "Plane ticket for you, back to Virginia."

"But why?"

Klaus looks extremely broody. "You're not safe with me, Caroline." He draws out the 'I' in her name, and the British accent sounds pleasant to her ears - Carol_iiii_ne. He doesn't use her name often, and when he does, she knows he's serious. But his words strike a cord in her, and anger floods through her.

"You're being absolutely ridiculous! This was a freak thing, Klaus, you can't control it if a stake-happy amateurish vampire hunter comes after me!" She is standing up now, waving her arms around, as if to prove her point.

"I should be able too!" He suddenly yells, his fists clenching. Dark veins appear under his eyes in one fluid motion.

"But you can't, Klaus." Caroline says softly.

One of his hands clench the corner of the wall. It cracks, and plaster dust falls to the ground like snow. He's almost panting now.

"The mere idea," He begins, deathly quiet. He gets louder as his rant continues. "The mere idea of any living thing touching you for any kind of purpose revolts me. It makes me nauseous. And when I heard you scream earlier, all I saw was red and felt the overwhelming urge to crush whoever dared to mar your perfection. I've never felt anything so close to this over-protectiveness, not even for my own family and you are the most -"

She's across the room in barely a heartbeat, her hands gently cupping his face and pulling him closer. Her lips press against his almost bruisingly, and he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her towards him in an upward motion. Suddenly, she's against a wall and her skin feels like it's going to burst into flames, and she's okay with the pleasant burn. Her hands roam under his shirt and begins tugging at it, and it's quickly discarded. She knows if they keep this up, she won't get her point across and she'll be back in Mystic Falls. Trapped.

Caroline pulls away, ignoring the way his growl shoots straight to her core. "If this incident had happened in Mystic Falls," she pants. "then I would be dead. You wouldn't have been there to protect me. The bastard would've gotten me, and I would be buried in a shallow grave in the woods. Forgotten."

His blue eyes darken to a stormy gray, and he pulls her closer, his forehead pressed against the smooth skin of her shoulder.

"Don't you see why I am safer with you? You are able to protect me."

He nods, almost reluctantly, before kissing the skin on her neck, leaving a trail of fire. Klaus has already packed their bags when she awakes the next morning, tangled and satisfied in the bed sheets.

They never return to Russia.

/|\

He does take her back to Mystic Falls, but only to visit her friends and her Mom. When they pass the welcome sign and the town square on their (she refers the bike as _theirs_, now) motorcycle, she feels panic grip at her and she squeezes his waist.

Klaus seems to sense her discomfort and fear. "We're only here to see you're mother and some of your over-dramatic friends,"

She looks suspiciously at him, choosing to ignore the passive aggressive insult towards her close friends.

He lets out a reluctant chuckle. "I promise. Only a couple of days here, and then we're on our way to Los Angeles."

Caroline perks up exponentially, and rests her chin on his shoulder as they whiz past Mystic Grill and the many residential homes. "How many times have you've been there?" She asks, honest curiosity filling her tone.

He lets out a sigh. "Oh, once our twice over the years."

She takes that answer in the opposite direction and decides he's been there many times.

"Know any celebrities?" Caroline teases instead, her tongue poking out in between her white teeth.

Klaus' entire demeanor changes and looks extremely self-satisfied. "Actually, I was quite good mates with Clark Gable."

She freezes, a look of disbelief flashing across her face. "Clark Gable – as in, the Clark Gable who portrayed Rhett Butler?"

He nods in confirmation. Her mind flashes back to that relatively successful town outing, where they previewed _Gone with the Wind_ in the town square.

"'_Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn,'_ Clark Gable?" She quotes, an eyebrow raising.

"The very same," Klaus almost looks nonchalant as he casually adds, "Humphrey Bogart, too. And who do you think gave James Dean his fashion inspiration? You should've seen the man before I met him."

She slaps his back, her head thrown back in laughter. "You've been holding out on me! Klaus, a greaser!"

He smirks.

They stop in front of her Mom's house, and he shuts the engine off and kicks out the kickstand with his foot. He twists in his seat to look at her, trapping strands of her golden hair in between his callused fingers.

"Trust me, sweetheart, I haven't been holding out on you that much," Klaus drawls, grinning at her. His hand travels downward, cupping her chest quickly before gently running across her stomach.

She's lost in his touch for several moments before the sound of a car passing by alerts her. "Klaus, we are outside my mother's house! You can't just -" His hand is lower now, discreetly pushing up her skirt, and she lets out a gasp, thankful that her house is in a seemingly empty area. "My mom is sheriff, you know."

A long and drawn out sigh erupts from his chest as he stops his administrations. "Don't want us to be arrested for public indecency, now do we?"

"No, sir," Caroline rubs her own soft fingers against his cheek, and she begins to slide off the backseat of the motorbike. "No we don't." Her back is towards him as she confidently walks towards her front door, but she can feel his stare boring holes into the back of her neck.

Her mom greets her with surprise, but has to quickly leave due to more rogue vampires roaming the town. Caroline bites back the urge to retort a cheeky and sarcastic response of _'Oh, another one?_'. Not ten minutes into her homecoming, and her mom is out the glass door.

"Well, that was anti-climactic," She huffs. "Snubbed by my own family."

"Trust me, I know the feeling well." Klaus says darkly, and the two sit in silence as she reaches out and grabs his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He reciprocates the gesture with an easy smile.

/|\

Not ten minutes after landing at LAX airport, Caroline declares she loves Los Angeles.

"We're buying a penthouse with a great view here," She says as they walk towards their rented convertible, bags rolling behind her and clacking with the tiles. "And we are going to stay there for at least two months of the year. No exceptions. And we're getting a dog, because I hate cats – oh! Maybe a puppy! Can you compel them to be potty-trained? I've never tried, but maybe since you are a big soft-hearted puppy yourself -"

He smiles and helps her into the car, listening to her inane chatter and choosing to ignore the good-natured prod at him. She's running on less then two hours of sleep after being up almost forty. "We've been all over the world, and I could give you anywhere, and you choose LA?"

She shrugs coyly. "Well, why not?"

Klaus opens the door to their large room, and she pushes her luggage in with her foot and fists her hands in the fabric of his shirt and pulls him towards her. His lips meet hers desperately, and suddenly she jumps up, her legs clinging to his waist as his arms wrap around her, supporting her. The force of her leap causes his back to hit the wall, and she's moaning eagerly now, running her hands down his back under his shirt.

They don't make it to the bed, but when they are done, he carries her, already half asleep and rests her on the mattress.

Klaus wakes up to the smell of the ocean breeze and the warmth of the sun on his face and stomach. Also, Caroline is shaking him awake, already fully dressed and carrying shopping bags.

"I see you've been busy," He says, and grabs her unexpectedly and pulls her to his chest. They're lying horizontally on the covers. "Come back to bed."

Caroline sighs, looking frustrated. "As much as I want to, you gotta get up. We have a movie premiere in an hour."

She's already off the bed and rummaging through one of the many shopping bags she had placed on the dresser. Klaus runs a hand through his unkempt hair. "A movie premiere? And how did you manage to get an invite to one of those?"

He's almost proud when she admits with a mumble, "Might've compelled Angelina Jolie to think I'm her best friend. Minor details."

He eyes the bags warily. "Is there a suit in there?"

Caroline's entire face brightens as she throws it onto the bed. "Yup! Get dressed like... now. Seriously."

They go to several movie premieres, and he can tell she loves it. In the back of her mind, she wonders what people in Mystic Falls think when they see her in tabloids. She decides she doesn't really care.

It is sunset when they climb on top of the famous Hollywood sign, their legs dangling precariously off the side of the big and white 'H'. She's sipping an iced coffee, and Klaus' hands are kneading at her lower back, making skin to skin contact. She leans back into his touch, an overwhelming feeling of comfort and familiarity washing over her.

"Where to next, love?" He says into her skin.

Caroline smiles.

/|\

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><p><strong>I am still in shock at the enthusiasm of my readers! Thank you so much for your response, guys! It's you who keeps me going. If you guys want me to continue this, I will. Submit ideas to where you want Klaus and Caroline to travel to! Anyway, last chapter's ending was sudden, so I tried to make this chapter a little more fluffy at the end to make up for it. <span>Please remember English is not my first language!<span>**

**Please leave a review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**/|\ Tourist /|\**

**Spoilers for 3x15 - All My Children**

* * *

><p>|\

If Caroline was still human, their travels would have exhausted her.

They walk everywhere, hand in hand, but never really relax. Klaus lets her pull him down alleys, into old cathedrals, and down city streets just to explore and soak up the culture. At night, when even the lights in the cities seem to go dark, they curl up in bed, one of his hands stroking her curly hair as she rests on his chest, her own fingers tapping against the muscles as she explores.

In Africa, he watches her giggle as an elephant's trunk taps at her face. Caroline reaches out and up to touch it, her smile matching the intensity of the sun to him. The trunk wraps delicately around her cool arm as she continues to stroke its gray skin.

"I always thought their skin would be smoother, but it's almost... rough," She calls over to him, turning her head to look back.

He is almost blinded by her shining hair.

"Are you going to stay back there the whole time?"

Klaus sighs. "The elephants can sense the wolf in me, love. They would become wary and start to stampede because of it. Better to not risk it."

"Then how come they can't sense me being a vampire?" She is sincere about her inquiry, but he could see she is distracted. A baby elephant, barely reaching up to her chest is nudging at her legs, ears flapping in excitement. Caroline seemed to glow as she crouched to the ground, rubbing the calf's cheeks. It amuses him by how she coos at it like it is a kitten or a puppy.

"You, sweetheart, still have the scent of a human. To them, I am a wolf."

"I think you look more like a lion," Caroline deadpans, turning around to rake her eyes across his features with a tiny smirk. One hand rests on her hip, head tilted.

He closes his sketchbook filled with pictures of her with a snap, tucking the graphite pencil behind his ear as he stands up. "Speaking of, why don't we go see the pride now?"

She looks confused. "Won't they be anxious about you, like the elephants were?"

Klaus shakes his head, stepping over fallen branches and rocks as they walk across the nature reservation, fingers occasionally brushing. "I'm a predator, too. They'll respect me, as long as I keep my distance from their young. Trust me, we'll be fine."

He sees a sly expression form on her face, and then she's against his chest, kissing his neck as she places her face under his. Klaus' chin rests on the crown of her head.

"If you're the predator, then what am I?" She mutters into his shirt. Klaus almost shivers despite the heat.

"Then you are my prey," He senses the mood and growls, the noise radiating in his throat as his hands begin tugging at her clothes impatiently.

Suddenly, she jumps back, running away from him and laughing, her hands stretching out to the sides as if she was a child pretending to be a plane. Her blonde hair flies behind her, like a kite in the breeze, riding the wind.

"The mighty wolf predator has to catch me first!" Caroline yells back towards him gleefully, jumping over some dried out logs.

She begins howling like a wolf, her head arching back, facing the cloudless sky, spinning in circles.

He isn't sure how to react, but stares after her in awe. He's never had this kind of fun, never chased after something without the intent to kill and feed. His family didn't even play that much when they were younger. An image of his father plagues his mind, ruining whatever family moment he had ever experienced, before the sound of her piercing howl echoes again. He forgets about that man, and all he can see is her. An elephant is behind him, ears twitching and trunk swishing, and Klaus swears he sees amusement in its aged, but intelligent brown eyes.

"Catch me!" She's farther away now, almost a small dot on the horizon, running towards the lowering sun that she represents in his head – yellow and warm and bright and everything he needs to survive. "C'mon, I dare you!"

Another smile appears on his face at her familiar words, echoes of his bold declaration, and feels a sense of déjà vu. She sounds off with another howl, overly exaggerated as her feet dig into the earth, a trail of dust leading after her.

He chases after her in a heartbeat, his sketchbook left behind, but not forgotten, in the sand.

/|\

After the heat of Africa, the dryness of the sand, the unanimous decision was to go somewhere cold. They're in Canada, dead in the middle of winter, and skating on one of the Great Lakes near Michigan, specifically Lake Huron.

Klaus watches as she pokes her tongue out in between her teeth and squeals as she fights to stop her ice skates from sliding. Her hands are out to steady her as she wobbles.

Then she's gliding into him, his own skates sliding backwards as his arms enclose her small frame, as if he were trying to absorb her bright light and essence completely. In turn, her arms pull him closer as well, smiling into the scratchy fabric of this thick over coat.

"Sorry," She murmurs lightly. The scent reminds her of home, and she breathes it in.

"Don't be."

He grabs her hand, pulling her along the ice; he's had more then one thousand years to practice ice skating, and he's fairly certain that he's perfected the art.

Caroline is grinning as snow and wind nips at her face, but despite the beautiful snow covered surroundings and pine trees, her smile is just for him. When his eyes light up and he smiles back – almost all teeth – Caroline revels in the fact that the smile with that kind of emotion is directed at her.

They rent a cabin in the woods by the lake shore, and wake up to almost eight feet of snow, blocking the doors.

Caroline is sitting up in bed, grumbling to herself, "Now what are we going to do?"

Klaus makes no response, and Caroline prods him underneath the covers with her foot. He automatically jumps up, his hair sticking up, and he looks almost wild.

"What, what is it!"

She crosses her arms and faux pouts. "We got snowed in."

He slumps back down, resting again on his back, a pillow tucked under his head as he blinks blearily at her. "That's it?"

"I'm bored."

It's silent as he continues to gaze at her, looking incredulous as his eyes search hers. She watches as his face morphs, becoming mischievous and just slightly devious. He rolls over quickly, trapping her under his weight, both of his hands place next to her head as he presses her into the mattress with the pleasant force of his body. His lips caresses the skin on her neck, slowly working his way down to her shoulder, where his blunt teeth gently nip without breaking skin. His tongue soothes the red marks.

"I can think of a few ways to occupy your time, love." Klaus breathes on her neck. His eyes flick up to her face, where she is looking up at the ceiling, hands fisting in his curly hair.

His idea efficiently occupies her time for many hours.

When they're done, she's watching re-runs of a sitcom, a pillow propped up against the now broken headboard, laughing quietly. Klaus rolls away from his previous position (resting on her chest, listening to the heart beat that wasn't there), looking at the blue light of the television.

"What are you watching?" He inquires quietly, mimicking her position of leaning on the headboard. His arm reaches around her shoulders and pulls her closer.

She snuggles into him automatically and responds, _"How I Met Your Mother._"

"Never seen it. What's it about?" He shrugs, more interested in sniffing her hair than a silly human television show.

Caroline freezes from under his grasp. "You've never seen _How I Met Your Mother_?" She gasps; He doesn't respond, and she sits up hastily. "Ever?"

He pulls her back down to him, holding her close. He didn't want her far away. "I've stopped watching sitcoms after_ I Love Lucy._"

She goes on to explain the plot in detail ("Really?" Klaus scoffs. "An entire show dedicated to a long-winded story about some man finding his wife?" "It's more than that!" Caroline protests. "It's comedic genius!"). He quickly grows bored and stands up, pulling on clothes.

Cabin fever plagues them both, and despite the snow they both barrel out the door of their temporary residence, laughing as Klaus pulls them along. They're up at the top of a tall pine tree, resting on the same branch and looking out at the frozen lake that seemed to stretch on for miles and miles. She kicks her feet idly, the coolness of the branch matching her own skin.

_We're awfully fond of climbing things,_ Caroline grins merrily at the thought.

They admire the view, listening to the birds sing in peace.

/|\

Their relationship hits a small bump when they return back to Mystic Falls for a few days. Caroline had pictures, knick-knacks, and souvenirs for what seemed like the entire town. On the last day, they're resting on a large leather couch in his home next to the fire – she, curled up with a book, and Klaus, using the guise of sketching, but mostly he watches her instead.

Rebekah struts into their bubble of privacy, a blur of shopping bags and expensive French perfume that makes Caroline gag and compare her to a desperate middle schooler, and makes as many loud noises as possible. Klaus looks up and says a quiet greeting, while Caroline ignores her existence completely.

"Oh good," The Original coos falsely, twirling blonde strands of hair around her lithe finger. "Your little blonde pet is here, Niklaus. I have the best story to tell her, concerning that waiter human of hers."

Rebekah leans forward, resiting the urge to smirk. She didn't hide it very well.

Caroline stiffens, but continues to glare at the same sentence she has been reading since Rebekah walked into the room.

"You see," She begins, looking nonchalant. "He is such a tasty little thing. Mitch – no, wait, Matt – is sadly on vervain, so he still pines after you, but I've been invited into his house and could easily switch his supply of vervain to something else so I can compel him..." Her head tilts, eyes flashing.

"Careful, Rebekah," Caroline growls darkly. "The color green doesn't look good on you."

The girl in question sneers in response, but turns to her brother. "Did I ever tell you what she did with Tyler, and what _I_ did with your hybrid after she had left?"

The book Caroline was reading snaps and rips at the spine, her back and shoulders rigid.

"Rebekah, that's enough." Klaus interjects coolly, his face becoming blank, but eyes flashing with anger.

"Niklaus, I think your slave has the right to know what I did with her boyfriend when she was kidnapped and then tortured by the orders of Mrs. Lockwood," Rebekah sighs.

(Klaus makes the mental note to mercilessly kill Mrs. Lockwood when he has the free time.)

Rebekah continues, basking in the feeling of power, before another voice cuts her off from the beginning of her planned monologue.

"Rebekah, dear sister, I do believe your presence isn't needed here."

Elijah leans against the threshold wood, back straight and seemingly casual. However, the truth is that he exudes power and persuasion. Regardless, it works, and Rebekah grabs her designer shopping bags with a pout.

"Oh, 'Lijah, you ruin all the sense of _fun _this family has_. _You're quite a bore." She whines, flouncing out of the room, platinum blonde hair bouncing with volume.

Caroline discards the book to the coffee table, but smiles at Elijah with thanks. He straightens, looking impeccable in a suit, and half bows back. On any modern boy the gesture would've looked silly, but the Original seemed to pull it off with elegance and class.

"If you two will excuse me," Elijah drawls, backing out of the room. "Kol and I must discuss his... nasty habit of leaving his leftovers in his bed. Excuse me."

The room is quiet besides the crackling of the fire.

"Look, you -"

"I -"

They stutter at the same time, and they both let out awkward laughs and look away. He stares at her, imploring for her to continue. She meets his gaze and searches his eyes. He doesn't look hurt or angry, merely seeking confirmation.

"Klaus, when I was human, I was as insecure as possible. Bordering on neurotic. I mean, I'm still crazy and neurotic Caroline, but – I.. I've gotten a hold of myself now. But Matt was probably my first real boyfriend, and he helped me grow. And mature." She looks up at him, and sees a flash of her own face from the paper of his precious sketchbook. She'll mention that later.

He's still looking at her, so she continues. "When I became a vampire, I was going through my transition alone. When Matt found out, he was repulsed and rejected me. Everyone in this god forsaken town had been changed for hundreds of years, and they couldn't really teach me what it's like with what I've come to call being a vampire as a gift. But Tyler, he was also going through what I was, even if it was another species. We were both new, left out, scared, outcasts, and we forged a bond."

Caroline sees his jaw clench, and her hand reaches out to cup the bulging muscle. Her thumb strokes his cheek, and she sees his posture relax slightly.

"You, however," She continued, smiling at him. "You are my eternity. I'm not a scared little silly girl anymore, and my potential shines with you. Even if I hated you at first. Hated you for everything you had done against my friends. I was loyal to them, even if I didn't know you at the time. You were the faceless stereotypical bad guy who I had never imagined would be as deep and have so many layers as you." Her other hand cups Klaus' other cheek, and he leans forward, his forehead hits hers gently as she continues. Both of their eyes close.

"I'd never thought you would come out of all that's happened, or that I would ever feel as strongly towards someone as I feel to you" Caroline murmurs. "But I'm so glad you showed up."

Everything had already been said. She didn't mind that the other supernatural beings in the mansion could probably hear every single word of her private speech, but cherished the moment of closeness and vulnerability.

"I'm glad I showed up, too." Klaus responds, his voice scratchy.

They both sit on the couch for a long time, neither willing to stir and bring back reality.

/|\

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><p><strong>As always, you guys' enthusiasm and reviews with this story keeps me writing! Sadly, we have 3 weeks with no new episodes. I don't know if I'm ending the story at this point, but I consider this chapter suitable as an ending. I'll continue if you guys want me too. Send in destination ideas, if you want too! Writing Elijah and Rebekah was deliciously fun. I wasn't sure how to write Kol, he's only had several lines on the show and I didn't want to paint him to be OOC, but I threw in a honorable mention.<strong>

**The Great Lakes requested by the lovely ~Twicked (ID /2566438)**

**More Original Family interactions thought up by the awesome ~jau0062 (ID /1792994)**

**Please leave a review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**/|\ Tourist /|\**

* * *

><p>|\

They start in a museum, both of their heads tilting to the side as they examine the splotches on a canvas in front of them.

Caroline makes an unpleasant face. "It's... interesting."

Klaus grunts noncommittally in agreement. "The color scheme is definitely unique."

She discretely looks from each patron of the arts to the other, reading their faces. They all look interested in which ever painting or abstract sculpture they were advising. Her eyes flick back to Klaus. He looks bored, which is strange. Caroline knew for a fact that Klaus loves touring art museums.

Then he is looking at her, one corner of his mouth lifting with suppressed laughter, and she sighs in relief.

"Thank god," She leans her head onto his shoulder, breathlessly laughing. "What the hell are we looking at?"

A chuckle vibrates from his chest and throughout her body. "This painting looks like the artist became agitated and proceeded to throw paint buckets of different colors at the canvas."

Her entire body is shuddering from giggles. "Well, I for one, do not understand modern art and think that the curator of this museum has terrible taste. " Then she tilts her head up, her chin resting on his shoulder as she gives him her patented full watt smile.

Klaus feigns a look of mock seriousness. "Who shall we complain to for these abominations passing as art?"

She turns her head around warily, eyeing the large statues, and groans. "Do we really have to go through the sculpture wing? I mean – c'mon, they all look like a toddler with play-do made them! They're ugly. I don't get modern art. We're in Budapest, I'm sure we can find something else to do!"

And with that, she grabs the sleeve of his jacket, tugging him past art enthusiasts with a hasty mumble of "'Excuse me, pardon me, get out of the way!" She abruptly stops next to the crowded city streets, snow turning into flurries all around them.

Caroline turns around on her heels, and stares at Klaus intently. "You've been here before," She gestures around her. "Show me."

And show her he does. She laughs, their arms swinging in between them as he tours Hero Square with her, sipping on Hungarian coffee. They study the large statue of their first king on a horse, their necks cramping just to gaze at the top of it.

They take the Funicular Railway up a huge hill, and she smiles at the breathtaking view when they reach the top. Caroline grabs as many brochures as possible, all proudly boosting facts about Buda Castle, with its gorgeous white columns and regal architecture. They eat lunch side by side at the steps the castle, relatively quiet. She loves that there were never many awkward silences. It was comforting, the silence. He throws his arm around her shoulder, and she pulls him closer, her own arm wrapping around his back.

At night, when even the night owl Klaus is ready to relax in bed, Caroline drags him to underground clubs.

"Intoxicated teenagers gyrating to loud noises, sounds fun," He complains as she drags him through the throng of dancers. It fascinates him how the colored lights seem to give an ethereal glow to her, and making her look impossibly more angelic then she already is.

She turns to look back at him, her white teeth flashing in a grin, and he realizes he's staring blankly at her. "Hey, I'm one of those teenagers. And this isn't noise," She scoffs as they finally stop at the bar. "It's dubstep."

"Dub-_what_?" Klaus grumbles, swiping a scotch bottle from behind the counter. He can practically feel the base in his chest, thumping along to the beat.

Caroline orders some fruity alcoholic drink with a tiny umbrella and downs it in one gulp. "Lighten up, predator."

And then she's grinning seductively at him, and he feels his breath catch in his throat as she turns on her heels and saunters off, hips swaying, into the crowd of wild dancers.

She disappears from his line of sight.

He drains the entire bottle of scotch quickly, but still feels frustratingly sober.

What Caroline calls "dubstep" (and he calls it random noises in an endless loop) stops, and a wild dance remix thumps in his ears, he eventually makes his way across the room, weaving strategically in and out of dancing couples.

Of course, she is in the center, commanding the attention from everyone around her, men and women alike. He's just part of the crowd, entranced by her fluid movements that seemed unreal. He stands in awe for several minutes, as the hype for the remix built up. When the bass begins to drop, he realizes she is his, and not somebody elses for the taking, and he reaches forward and put his hands on her hips possessively.

Caroline turns toward him, the same lust he feels consumed with reflecting in her eyes, and her hand clasps around his wrist, and she yanks him through the crowd with a purposeful step. When they reach the back door, leading to a stereotypical dark alley, she kicks it open. It almost snaps of its hinges with her haste and strength.

Before she can attack at him, he's already lunging at her, hands cupping her face as he backs her up, almost violently hitting the wall. His lips are hard and demanding on her own, and she shucks up his shirt and begins scraping his stomach with her fingernails, leaving behind red trails. Klaus groans into her mouth, illiciting her own matching grunt, and with that opportunity he plunges his tongue into her mouth, both of them battling for dominance and control. The kiss is sloppy, rough, and violent.

He pushes farther into her, denting the hard brick wall behind her. Red dust falls to the ground and attaches itself to her shirt.

The dark veins begin emerging under their eyes, and they make animalistic noises. Klaus grabs her thighs, hitching them around his waist, and she complies eagerly. Her elongated canine tooth nicks his lips, and she tastes the sweet tang of his blood in her mouth. He backs up, panting and staring at her, marveling in the darkness spreading under her eyes. He knows his eyes are yellow, and his own fangs, plus the werewolf fangs must be bared at her.

He yearns to bite her, to sink his teeth into the milky flesh of her shoulder when they both peak, as she does the same to him, but he doesn't want to risk anything. Potentially killing her would ruin, as she puts it, 'the mood'. She is to important to fool around with.

He takes her right there, in the alley. It isn't sweet or slow, but filled with any aggression the two were feeling. Clothes are ripped, snarls and growls filling the night as he marks her as his.

The last memory Caroline has of a dark alley was being attacked by a vampire hunter. The new memory she has is of being attacked, but in a much more pleasant manner.

They vow to return to Budapest later.

/|\

Caroline really likes Egypt. She loves the food, the sights, the dry heat and hot sunshine. And more importantly, she relishes in the fact that she can call him an old man.

They're standing in the Cairo Museum of Egyptian Antiquities, right in front of the solid gold burial mask of King Tutankhamen.

"Were you and the Boy King best friends?" She jokes, elbowing him gently in the ribs.

Klaus gives her a bemused look. "Fortunately for you, sweetheart, even _I'm_ not that old."

They walk through a crowded market place, collecting stares from bewildered natives. You would think they are used to travelers and their paleness, but with their blonde hair and bright white skin, they stick out even more.

It's become their "thing" to climb on top of historical and national monuments. So, they could barely resist lunching and drawing at the top of the pyramids of Giza. They do it at sunrise, using their supernatural speed to bound from one crumbling block to another. She giggles, enjoying being so high up. Klaus rests on a sandstone block jutting out enough to sit on just under the tip. She joins him, leaning against the hot stone, her eyes closed.

After almost an hour, she cracks one of her eyes open and examines the paper Klaus is so carefully hunched over. The piece of charcoal is gently forming and shading her face.

"You... draw me that much?"

His hand freezes over the paper, blinking several times, before he turns around to gaze at her.

"Of course."

She sits up, her eyebrows furrowing, and she lifts her palm up to him. Wordlessly, he hands over his precious sketchbook, and she flips through the pages delicately, as if it would fall apart, rip, and turn into dust under her fingers. As she is beginning to expect, each page is filled with her. Her at the top of the Eiffel tower, hair delicately flowing in the wind. Another of her sleeping at the grand canyon, her blonde hair fanning out around her head, as if she was an angel. One at the top of the Colosseum, a grin spreading across her face. Another one of her reading a book on their bed. One of her ice skating, bundled up in a coat and arms outstretched, laughing. Another one of her crouched eye level with an elephant calf, stroking its head.

The details in each portrait of her is so precise and reverently done, she starts to choke up.

She feels his stare on her own face, gauging her reaction. She flips one more page, and feels ice coarse through her veins.

It's of her, lying in an alley, covered in blood and a painful expression on her face. The drawing itself has harsh and dark colors, surrounded by shadows, as if it were done hastily. She can see dried tear drops on it, and it's slightly crumbled up. The pressure from the pencil rips through the paper, the strokes rushed and hard.

Her own eyes flick up to his, waiting for an explanation.

"I thought... that if I drew it on paper, I could erase it from my head. Foolish, I know..."

Caroline reaches her hand out, and brushes it against his cheek. He lets out a sigh, eyes closing, and pushes his face into her hand further, kissing her palm gently.

"You have no idea how that day torments me."

"It haunts me, too," She whispers back.

They both lean forward, and their foreheads rest against each others, eyes closed. The moment is probably more intimate than when they are together, tangling under the sheets and focused solely on each other.

They stay at the top of the pyramid until its night time, wrapped up in each other in their own private world.

/|\

Caroline falls off the wagon in Chicago.

She and Klaus were arguing about something stupid and meaningless, and she storms out of their expensive hotel room, hastily buttoning up her jacket and shoving fingerless gloves on her hands. Truth is, she hasn't fed in a while, and felt super sensitive and cranky, picking fights over the simplest of things.

When she steps out into the night, she is pleasantly surprised to see snow falling. The white ice sticks to her hair and leaves white spots on her jacket. She is almost a block away from her hotel room, and she isn't seething with anger, when she hears someone approach from behind her on the empty side walk.

"Lost, doll?"

Caroline freezes, hands shoved in her pockets as she whips around.

A man in his mid-thirties is stumbling after her, clearly intoxicated, and smelling of stale beer.

"Uh – no, I'm not," She stutters incredulously, turning around. "Goodnight."

And she feels a force on her jacket, pulling her to his body as he wraps his arms around her waist, and she stands rigidly in shock. The arms are unfamiliar, and all her brain can think is 'not mine' and 'not Klaus.'

She panics, and then pushes against him with her full vampire strength, and he slams into a building, his head breaking the fall. Blood starts to pour from his nose and cut on his forehead as he groans.

"You're gonna pay for that, you stupid bitch!" He wheezes, lunging at her again.

She doesn't pay attention to a word he says, and the red blood is so bright and captivating, and she feels her canines grow and eyes become bloodshot with dark veins, and her attacker stumbles to a halt. She is consumed with hunger, thirst, and an aching want to be satisfied from her sudden craving. She has no control. Not anymore.

"What the- ?"

Then he's back against the wall, and she arches her own head back, exposing her teeth to the moonlight, and digs them right into his jugular, biting down hard.

Oh, and he screams, but she jams her hand against his mouth, silencing him. His pain is easy to ignore. Caroline swallows his life blood eagerly, gulping it down, and she feels the man slump as he grows weaker. His hands, which were once pulling at her back, falls to his side, and she tosses the body into the alley.

It takes several moments for the ramifications of her actions begin to set in. She stares at him in shock, and a mantra of "oh god" escapes her bloody lips; she falls to the stained ground, sobbing loudly, staring at the lifeless body of the dead stranger.

Klaus finds her there several moments later, covered in blood, hair mussed, and clothes stained. She is almost catatonic, and he crouches next to her and cups her cheeks in his hands.

"Oh, sweetheart," He whispers to her, his voice low.

She's trembling, still muttering "oh god" under her breath.

Klaus sighs, and scoops her up, one arm under her knees and the other wraps around her back as he cradles her to his body. Her own arms snake around his neck as she buries her face into his shoulder, trying to disappear.

"What have I done?" Caroline whimpers into his skin. He doesn't answer, only carries her back to their penthouse to wash and clean up.

Behind them, snow begins to cover the nameless mans body, forgotten in a dark alley.

/|\

* * *

><p><strong>Well, here, have some angst and trouble in paradise... Anyway, thank you all for your lovely ideas and destinations, they really help, and I can't wait to write more.<strong>

**And, some shameless self promotion, I wrote a Elijah/Katherine one shot, with the story ID of /s/7865402 ! Thank you guys for your support!**

**Please leave a review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**/|\ Tourist /|\**

* * *

><p>|\

Klaus isn't even gone for half an hour, but it is enough time to find their room trashed.

His face is cool, calm, and completely blank, but on the inside he is in shock. Furniture is shattered, the walls dented, and generic photographs that came with their expensive hotel room is in fragments on the floor. Goose feathers from the pillows flutter around in the air endlessly. The canvas bag slung over his shoulder fell to the ground, a blood bag slides out onto the hardwood floor. He had gone out to get her a supply specifically for her.

And in the middle of all this chaos, Caroline is sitting on the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees as if she is cradling herself. At the sound of the door closing, her weeping stops as she looks up at him, mascara running down her face and mixing with the red blood.

Something in his expression breaks her, and her entire body starts shaking again, more violently.

"What's w-wrong with me?"

They both know perfectly well what is supposedly wrong with her.

Immediately, Klaus is kneeling in front of her and cupping his hands around her head, one on her cheek and the other around the back of her neck, gently massaging the tense muscle. She leans into his touch, choked sobbing noises coming from her throat.

"There is nothing wrong with you, Caroline," He says lowly. At her name, she meets his blue eyes hesitantly. "You are a vampire, love, this is your nature. You felt danger, you reacted, and it just happens. It's instinct; it is natural to do this, love."

"No!" She spits angrily, and he is taken aback. "This isn't nature – killing people – it isn't normal! It doesn't just _happen_!"

She hates the look of patience on his face. "Sweetheart -"

Caroline's hands push away his own, a snarl contorting on her face. "Don't call me that!"

His vulnerable and kind expression turns to stone right before her eyes. She feels like flinching, but instead she stands up abruptly, pacing around the room to avoid him.

"Things just don't go away like that, Klaus! You – you're smoothing things over, making everything okay when it's not, Klaus, it's not! And you can't just _say_ this is nature. Like it's part of the freaking food chain or something, because people are not supposed to eat other people! It is so not natural!"

She is panting now, and he is watching her, his jaw clenching. Shadows from the dark room engulfs one side of his face, creating high contrast with his cheekbones. Inwardly, she marvels at how someone can look so much like the devil and an angel at the same time.

"The line is blurring," Caroline looks desperate, and she reaches forward to grab his cheeks, squeazing them as if to emphasize her point even more. "That line that separates me from being – from being an inhumane monster and being myself, being Caroline, is blurry! This isn't me, this isn't who I am, I am not this – this person! With you, I'm this totally different person, but that isn't normal! Love isn't supposed to be like this, it's supposed to be -"

She suddenly stops, because his facial expressions is so broken and she wants to take back everything she says, take it all back and just hold him close instead.

But she can't.

Her hands slide from his face, and his eyes are wide as he staggers back from her. She forgets that he can be hurt, can ache from emotional pain just like any other insecure being. They stare at each other for a while, mouths hovering open. She can see his hands squeezing themselves into fists and turning white.

"I – I didn't mean..."

His eyes are like chips of flat ice. He gestures to the door. "Perhaps you should go home, back to your town," He is sneering at her, and she flinches. "Back to being regular old Caroline, trapped in Virginia and without a real purpose."

"Klaus," is all she whispers, her voice wavering.

The man in question ignores her, and faces away from her.

She stares at his back, her arms wrapping around herself. It seems like hours they stay in that position, but truthfully, it is only mere minutes. She quietly walks towards the door, grabbing her purse from the table. She turns the knob, stepping out into the hallway, and quietly shuts it behind her.

The click echoes in both of their ears long after she is gone.

Caroline is in the elevator alone, when she sees a reflection of herself from the interior walls. She gasps aloud at her face, and starts wiping it hastily on her jacket. She has to get the blood off. Thankfully, the elevator ride was long, and when it dinged open, her appearance was put back together – hair in a perfectly messy bun, face wiped clean of dried blood and tears, and clothes pristine.

She has no where to go, so she asks the lobby for directions to the nearest train station. She walks by the dark alley where the mutilated body of the man still lies, cold and forgotten, but she holds her head high as she passes it.

She's sitting on the train, as far away from people as physically possible, her purse in her lap and staring at the ground. Her eyes focus on her hands, with blood flecks in between her finger nails. A lump of cotton appears in her throat, and she lets out a sigh.

Caroline arrives at a connecting station around five in the afternoon, and takes the next train to Virginia. It's almost ten at night and deserted when she arrives, but compels someone to drive her to Mystic Falls.

"You're going to drive me to Mystic Falls. No questions asked, no polite chit chat." She growls at him, her pupils dilating.

The man nods his head in a daze as she slips into the passenger side, slamming the door closed.

She stops the driver outside of the town line, and compels him to drive home and forget this had ever happened. It's almost midnight when she walks past her house, staring at it with deep concentration; she didn't want to go home. Not yet. She would only disappoint her mother.

Her feet carry her to the Salvatore boarding house, knocking loudly on the front door. She hears muffled cursing upstairs, sees lights flick on as the person stomps their way to answer her call.

The door cracks open, light illuminating the front yard and her face. She squints for a moment, eyes adjusting, and sees Damon making a face at her.

"What the hell are you doing here, Barbie?" He grumbles, rubbing an eye.

She ignores his unpleasantness. "Is – I don't know why I came here. I just... couldn't go home. Not yet."

Damon stares at her for a moment, taking in her haggard expression and her appearance, before calling out, "Elena, can you come downstairs please?"

Caroline feels shock coarse through her veins. "Since when did you and Elena – oh my god, did you – but what about -?"

Damon grabs her arm and yanks her into the house unceremoniously. "We'll explain later, Blondie."

She's sitting awkwardly on the couch, and sees Elena trudge down the stairs, hair mussed and pajamas thrown on haphazardly. Her sleepy brown eyes flick up to hers, and she's instantly awake with confusion.

"Caroline, what are you doing here?" The brunette asks, her head tilting.

They sit in silence for several seconds, and then Caroline launches herself at her best friend, tears already streaming down her face as she wraps her arms around her friend's smaller body and squeezes her.

Damon looks shocked, but Elena sighs knowingly and hugs her friend closer, murmuring sweet condolences into her ear as the blonde weeps into her shoulder.

Eventually, after several hours of crying and comforting, Caroline falls asleep on the leather couch at the Boarding House, and Damon carries the sleeping Elena upstairs. She wakes up to a glass of blood on the coffee table and a headache. She drinks it eagerly, relishing in the fact that it isn't stolen from someone she has to slaughter like a cow raised for only one purpose - it's beef.

She mopes around their house several days, constantly plaguing Elena about her relationship with the Salvatore brothers, which she in turn ignores completely.

Caroline hopes that if she immerses herself with someone else's social life, she will forget her own.

She's sitting by the fireplace, nursing a glass of O Negative, when she thinks of her father. When she was little, before he left, he'd take her to the aquarium whenever she was sad. The idea gets lodged into her head, and before she knows it, she's in her car and driving there determinedly, albeit over the speed limit.

She's staring at the fish passing by in the round glass tanks, and she hears Klaus' words echo in her ear - _"trapped."_

He's right, of course. She is just as trapped as these fish in their tanks as she is in her own hometown.

/|\

Caroline is so used to traveling with a small bag and staying in a different place each night, she gets cabin fever in Mystic Falls. It's unsettling how the place she lived her entire non-vampire life feels like her own personal purgatory.

She's sitting on the bed in her room, staring at her dresser, where the travel books mock her, each page filled with memories and a promise that causes her pain. Angrily, she tosses a pillow at them, knocking over a lamp instead; it chatters on the hardwood floor. A piece of paper floats to the ground, its picture facing up.

It's a sketch of her, delicately drawn, with a horse next to her figure.

She whimpers inwardly, resisting the urge to rip the picture apart (even though she knows she'll regret it and just tape it up later) , before leaping off the bed and speeding to her car.

/|\

The places she has visited are filled with the memory of Klaus.

She's back in LA, hanging out with her sudden best friend Angelina Jolie, and finds that the sunny weather and constant happiness of everyone around her puts her off. Caroline knows that she doesn't love LA anymore.

She tries New York City again, but after several hours of exploring, she finds herself back at the 9/11 memorial, and she still feels the melancholia from their last trip there.

On a whim, she goes back to Italy, going up the boot-shaped country to Venice. She loves it. There are no memories of Klaus to haunt her time, and she spends hours a a day, crossing random bridges and going down back streets to residential areas. She learns how to drive her own boat, and giggles as she speeds down canals.

She feeds the thousands of pigeons at St. Marks square, smiling when the birds land on her arms and her shoulders. Children flock up to her, pulling at her legs to get closer to the ground so they can touch the birds, and she obliges, handing off bird seed and crumbs to the kids. At night, when her bed is too lonely and cold, she climbs up the clock tower over looking the entire city, watching the lights of the boats and gondolas pass by.

She is at the top of the Rialto bridge, her elbows leaning against the cool marble, ignoring the loud tourists who bump into her constantly. Her eyes fixate on the rippling water, which was surprisingly clear and a murky blue color.

A hand curls around her lower back, pulling her closer to their form, and Caroline almost jumps at the contact. But the familiar scent washes over her, and she doesn't turn around to meet the person head on.

"How did you find me?" She says casually.

"Your mother," Klaus replies, and his breath pushes a blonde curl against her cheek. She nods in response, her fists clenching with anxiety.

And then she turns around quickly, arms reaching up around his neck to pull him into a fierce hug, trying to put as little space as possible in between them. He returns her enthusiastic hug, burying his face into her shoulder as his arms squeeze impossibly tight. They are rocking back and forth, eyes closed and just holding each other close.

"I'm so sorry," Caroline whispers. "I'm so sorry."

He mumbles something in reply, but it doesn't matter, because they are together again. The bottomless pit eating away at her stomach fills up with joy. They pull back from their embrace, staring at each other, and she smiles blindingly at him, and he slowly offers his hand.

She takes it.

/|\

* * *

><p><strong>And another chapter, hooray! I'm so glad you guys are liking my story, it means so much! I don't know how much farther I will go with it though, but I'll still continue to write if you want me too.<strong>

**Please leave a review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**/|\ Tourist /|\**

* * *

><p>|\

Klaus is ready to go traipse off into the sunset with her in tow, ready to leave their long separation behind them, left in the past and go off to explore more together. But Caroline loves Venice, and she has only been there for several days and wishes to experience it with him.

They're lying in the bed at her hotel, blankets kicked to their feet, their legs and arms tangling together as he holds her close. Their combined heat keeps their naked bodies warm. Her fingers run down his chest; the blonde hairs feel like peach fuzz underneath her finger pads.

"Did you bring any bags with you?" She murmurs, tilting her head up and resting her chin on his chest.

One of his rough hands reaches up and fists in her hair. "No, I was so focused on finding and being with you that I left everything behind."

"Klaus without his sketchbook? Oh, who would've thought! That thing is practically attached to your hip," She teases, pulling him closer and placing a kiss on his collar bone. She feels him shudder slightly at her intimacy.

"Actually," He says warily, catching her attention. "I burned it."

Caroline is silent as she takes this in. "You – you burned it?"

"Yes." It is a curt reply.

"Every single page?" Her voice rings with alarm.

"Yes."

She blinks at him, an incredulous expression spreading across her face. "All of it?"

"Yes."

Caroline frowns at his monosyllabic responses, feeling like she is pulling teeth to get answers. "But why?"

She hears him sigh, his head flopping back on the pillow as he stares up at the intricate designs painted on the ceiling. His silence claws at her heart, and she physically tenses her body as she impatiently waits for his explanation.

"I thought that if I burned all of my drawings of you, I would destroy whatever happiness you have given me. All of these memories that are probably from the happiest time of my life. Burn my feelings away..."

And then Caroline is staring at him again, but he won't look at her, and he practically radiates childish embarrassment and stubbornness.

"Hey," She breathes, her soft hands wrapping around his muscular arm and gives it a comforting squeeze. "Look at me."

He doesn't.

She straddles his waist, pressing him down into the mattress as one of her hands cups his cheek, turning it to look at her. Even though it works, she regrets it immediately because then he's sitting up with her being cradled in his lap, arms wrapping around her naked back and kissing a line from her jaw to her shoulder, and then down her chest. Fire blooms in her insides, and she lets out a breathy sigh. She is happy to let him continue his precise ministrations, but her hand grips his chin and pushes up, so he's finally meeting her eyes. His blue eyes are enveloped completely by his black pupils, and she feels herself being caught up in his insatiable lust.

"You can't kill feelings, Klaus," She whispers finally, one hand pulling at his coarse and springy curls, kneading gently at his scalp, massaging the tightness away. His eyes close and he just rests his forehead at the curve of her neck. She rocks them back and forth in companionable silence.

In that moment, she knows that he has abandonment issues, and she has them too. Abandoning each other hurts them more than any other bullet, vervain, daggers, or a wooden stake could make to their bodies. But they are together, and they will always have each other, and she can't imagine her life without him.

"I regret ever telling you to leave me," He finally mutters, his warm breath raising miniscule hairs on her body. "When that door slammed back in Chicago I kept waiting for you to come back. I cleaned the room, but when you didn't return... I just destroyed it all over again."

"I took the train back home. Stayed at the Salvatore's Boarding house for a couple of weeks, then went out traveling again. I was... lonely. And probably brooding more than Stefan."

He nods solemnly. "You're never leaving my side again."

It isn't an order or a question, but more of a statement. He recites this fact in a tone used to discuss the weather.

"I wouldn't want to leave it in the first place," She says with a smile, her finger nails running down his back gently. She hears him moan softly, and she rolls her hips against him with a sly grin.

"You said you'd take me anywhere," She hums into his hair.

"Wherever you would like," He responds in agreement, basking in the pureness radiating from her.

"I know _exactly_ where I want you to take me," She purrs in his ear suggestively, and she rejoices inwardly at the groan escaping from his lips. He utters the word _minx_ under his breath.

And then Klaus smiles at her the way the devil must have smiled moments before he fell from heaven – deviously, cunningly, and full of confidence. That smile alone alights her nerve endings and her veins with fireworks as he pulls her towards him roughly, capturing her lips in an intense kiss that makes her flush red and feel like thrashing with wild abandon.

/|\

He wakes up twisted in the covers and alone, to his disappointment. He's sitting up in bed, scratching his scalp as his eyes flick across the room. But then he hears the door open, her humming a tune to herself, balancing two expressos in her hand and a plastic bag around her shoulders. The light returns to his life and the room brightens and he sighs automatically with relief.

"Damn, you are already awake," Caroline sighs, sitting down on the bed fully clothed. "I wanted to run some errands before you woke up." She hands over the drink, which he accepts happily.

"I also have a present for you!" She adds excitedly, her hand fishing around in the bag, before pulling out a large rectangle wrapped in paper.

"It's not my birthday, sweetheart," He teases her.

She shakes the present from side to side, still waiting for him to accept it.

Klaus gives her a curious look, but takes it and rips off the wrapping paper. The gift suddenly feels heavier, and he swallows at the sudden tide of emotions washing over him.

At his lack of response, she starts to ramble with nervousness. "See, your other one was um, ruined, and I thought you would like a new one. I mean – you don't have to use it. I saw it in the window this morning and I just decided -"

"I love it," He croaks, the new sketchpad resting in his hands gingerly.

Caroline's relieved smile momentarily blinds him. "I'm glad."

He places it gently on the night stand, before pulling her into his lap, his hands gripping her hips.

"Allow me to show you how glad I am," He growls, tugging at her polka-dot skirt.

Afterward, he's sitting up against the backboard, and her back is pressed against his chest. He's holding her and tracing patterns on her stomach with his finger.

"Would you ever consider me drawing you nude?"

She snorts, her head resting on his shoulder. "What, you want to _'draw me like one of your french girls_?'"

He chuckles at her quote, but nods.

"I hardly think I need to pose for a reference. You have a good enough memory."

Klaus grins, reaching over for a pencil and his new present to begin.

/|\

She tells him the tale of when she went to the aquarium and brooded over her dead father and their separation. To cheer her up, he brings her to the Caribbean. The first thing she does is drag him to go scuba diving. But without the masks, because they are already dead, and do they need to breathe anyway?

Caroline watches the fish, smiling under water as they swim so close to her body that they tickle. The fish come in every color she can imagine, different sizes and personalities, and she sits on the sand at the bottom, her hair spreading out and flowing around her like a glowing yellow halo, illuminating everything around her.

He watches her in awe instead of the colorful coral reefs. She's like a mermaid or an angel, pale and golden and so bright he just wants to stare at her and worship at her feet. And stare at her he does, until she looks at him with a puzzled expression. But she grins, and it's so contagious he can't help but smile back at her like a fool.

A dolphin flashes by, and she grabs its fin and is pulled along, listening to the clicking noises it emits as they twirl together in sync.

Later, when the sun sets and the sky turns pink and the blue water reflects all of the rays, they swing back and forth on a hammock, Klaus holding her, half-asleep as she reads another one of her many travel book. It's finally dark, though, and she wakes him up, dragging him down to the deserted beach, making a small campfire.

They relax by the fire, basking in the warmth that licks at their skin, and Klaus falls asleep curled up next to her. She also stares at him when he doesn't realize it – just watching the way the red and orange from the fire flicker and contrast with his skin tone and hair.

Somehow, she ends up looking for seashells by the shore, and she hears him approach behind her, offering her his hand. She wipes the muddy sand off on her legs, and sits up to takes his hand. He holds her right one out, placing her left hand on his shoulder.

"You want to dance?"

They are already swaying back and forth, and his forehead rests against hers. All she can see is his eyes, large and blue and staring at her.

"What a keen sense of observation you have," He laughs.

"With no music?" She ignores his jibe.

"Who needs music anyway."

Caroline snorts, her eyes rolling, but acquiesces at his romantic gesture. "You are so _cheesy_ sometimes."

(He secretly likes the way her nose crinkles, the light dusting of freckles on her nose disappears in the caverns of the wrinkles.)

"We all need some – as you put it so eloquently – '_cheese'_ in our lives." Klaus elongates the word cheese, drawling it in his British accent that he knows drives her up the wall.

She smiles, resting her head on his shoulder and looking out at the sparkling water, her eyes following the dolphins jumping up from the surf and splashing about – carefree and happy.

/|\

They sleep in a rented cabana by the ocean, and when the sunrise brushes against her face, she rolls off quietly, planning to take a walk. Caroline's foot prints trail behind her, gradually disappearing into the high tide waves. It isn't warm yet, but it is her favorite time of day, when the sky was a gray and pink color and the endless breeze coming from the ocean smells of salt and freedom. She feels free here – free form the clutches of her home town.

Her new found sense of happiness quickly disappears when she returns back to their cabana, and sees him packing up their things.

"Why are you packing? We've only been here for a day -"

All he says is, "I just got a call, Caroline."

At her name, she feels cold dread well up inside of her.

"What happened?" She whispers.

Klaus looks at her for a long time, searching her face for something she couldn't determine. Her tongue feels heavy in her mouth, and she struggles to form her next demand.

"Tell me."

And then he is reaching towards her, his hands clasping around her shoulders and stroking them with his thumbs. Her eyes are wide.

"It's your mother."

/|\

* * *

><p><strong>Hmm. I feel bad for them, I just can't let them stay happy, can I? Hope you liked this update. I'm practically dying because there was no new TVD episode tonight.<strong>

**The wonderful DGfleetfox suggested the underwater moment - thank you!**

**Please leave a review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**/|\ Tourist /|\**

* * *

><p>|\

She is leaping off the back of the motorcycle before it has even slowed down. Her leg muscles push back, propelling her forward, and she lands in her own front yard crouching slightly, one hand pushing against the springy and dew-covered grass. Absently, she hears the sound of the motorcycle stutter and turn off, plunging the Mystic Falls neighborhood street into silence. It was night time, and she's sure everyone around is asleep.

She's already sprinting towards the front door using her unnatural speed.

"Caroline..." Klaus calls out to her, throwing one leg off of the seat and striding towards her.

The woman in question ignores him, almost slamming into the door. She's in a daze, clawing at the door frantically.

The bright neon yellow "**CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS**" mocks her in all capital letters, shouting at her mentally, and her fingers shred it quickly. With her haste, she almost tears the door knob off. Her hands are shaking, and her frustration grows as the door doesn't open for her.

Then a gentle hand rests against hers – warm against her cold but sweat slicked hand. She smells his heady and intoxicating scent, and she breathes it in, trying to draw in comfort. It works marginally, and she sighs. But the impatience is still growing, and so is her anxiety and fear. Klaus helps her turn the brass door knob, and the door clicks, swinging open slowly.

The room is dark, but her senses immediately flood with two unmistakable scents, almost like auras. Blood, and vampire. She nearly whimpers, her eyes searching the dark, and her hands grope the familiar wall to flick on the light switch.

The foyer is bathed in light, revealing a horrible chaos she can't comprehend.

Blood smears litter the walls, hand prints every couple of feet seeping into the yellow paint. The rug, also soaked in blood, is turned up and rumpled, as if someone was running so fast they pushed it aside. Several pictures lie on the ground, the glass shattered and scattered like a small mine field. The trail of havoc lead upstairs.

The noise that rips from her throat is caught in between a scream and a cry. Caroline caves in on herself in the doorway, half falling to the ground in shock as she whimpers. Her hands brace themselves on the hardwood floor, which was stained with a deep red.

She's barely aware of the person crouching next to her fallen and trembling form, rubbing their hands across her back and pulling her curly hair from her face, stroking her cheek, murmuring quietly at her. She thinks she hears her name fall from his lips, but all she can even take in was a high keening noise.

It takes her several moments (that feel more like a lifetime) for her to realize that the noise is coming from her.

Klaus is still holding her when she stops crying out, her voice growing hoarse. He watches her warily as her head begins to shake.

"No... no no no... no..." Is her quiet mantra, and she suddenly sits up, gripping the threshold of the door as if to ground her in this reality.

And then she releases a blood-curdling scream.

"_Mommy_!"

This startles even Klaus; when she had been hurt in Moscow, bleeding and half-dead in the alley, she had never made any kind of... sound remotely like this. This screech was almost animal – wild, desperate, and angry all wrapped into one haunting shriek. He knows that this sound will haunt him for the rest of his years.

Caroline is a blur as she flashes up the stairs, calling out "_Mom_!", "_Mommy, please_!" and "_Mom, answer me, please_!" desperately, and he hastens to catch up with her. He almost falls over her, where she is crouching at the top of the stairs, her fingers digging into the plush carpet.

There is the stereotypical chalk outline of a body nearby a closed bedroom. A large pool of blood stains the white carpet. They both know that with this amount of blood spilled, the victim is definitely dead. She's frozen, her eyes wide, and her hand reaches out, trembling, to gently brush against the stain. It's all that's left of her own mother.

But Klaus grabs that hand, pulling it towards him and squeezing it. His other hand touches her cheek to turn her towards him, and her eyes stare blankly at his face, the tears streaming down her face and land on his hand.

"Caroline," He whispers to her at last.

She pushes her hand into his cheek, her eyes closing. He knows this place is toxic for her, poisoning her body and mind, so he pulls her into his arms, carrying her down the stairs.

They're out the door in a heartbeat and sitting on the motorcycle the next, Caroline cradled in his lap. The roar that emits from the engine is loud, but hears her mumbled promise so out of character that almost sends a chill through his veins.

"Whoever did this," Her face is pressed into his jacket, but is clear, "I'm going to kill them."

He believes her, without a doubt.

/|\

It saddens him to say that he doesn't know where else to take her – the only last living relative of hers is dead – so he shows up at the Salvatore Boarding house around midnight. He's still holding her in one hand, and knocking on the door with the other.

"Jesus _Christ_!" He hears Damon spit from somewhere upstairs, and he is almost surprised when he hears a womanly sigh, as if they were saddened by the interruption – Elena, perhaps? – and the ruffle of clothes being hastily thrown on. Damon begins stomping down the stairs, grunting, "Why the _hell _does Barbie and her pet monster think they can just knock on _my_ door when I'm trying to – "

Klaus never finds out what Damon was trying to do (he smirks inwardly, though, because he has a fairly good idea what he was doing before he knocked) because Damon himself rips the door open, about to scathingly insult whoever was interrupting him, and he pauses and looks at the girl in his arm, and then at Klaus.

"So, you did come," Damon states after a moment or two, and gestures for them to come in. "Early, if I do say so myself."

"Well, you called," Klaus nods, and flashes over to the couch, placing Caroline on the cushions and pushing her princess barrel curls away from her face. She breathed deeply, eyes closed, but the low light reflects off of her teardrops.

"She's had quite the shock." He says, still stroking her hair, half to himself and half to the eldest Salvatore brother.

"As I would expect," Damon replies. There is the clinking of glasses, and he sees a glass of bourbon offered to him. He grabs it, and then downs it in one gulp. After years of drinking, it barely stings anymore.

Klaus hands him back the glass, and Damon accepts it wordlessly.

"You never did tell me what exactly happened," Klaus tells him quietly, sitting down on the couch next to the sleeping form of Caroline.

Damon shrugs, squeezing a blood bag into a fancy glass. "Thought it would be better to tell you in person."

"She forced me to go to her house first," He sighs. Damon looks up, surprised. "It was a total bloodbath. The front hall destroyed, blood dripping up the stairs... I've seen what Stefan was able to do when he was a ripper, but this... what the hell happened, Damon?"

Damon almost winces at the mention of his baby brother, but then sighs and sits across from Klaus in a plush chair. He swirls the blood around in his glass, stalling for time, before he finally asks, "Last time you were in town, Liz told you of the rogue vampire attacks, right?"

"This town is constantly plagued with rogue vampires," Klaus drawls, giving him a dry look. "It's almost comical."

He looks as if he is about to protest, but shrugs again. "Point taken. Anyway, apparently, this one was unaware that you knew the doppelganger was here. He had a whole plan and everything, but didn't know how to contact you."

Klaus feels anger boiling in his chest. "So he killed a few locals and just bides his time,"

Damon lifts his glass in a sort of mock salute and acknowledgment. "Liz found out too much about him. We had this whole plan to take him out, but..." He trails off knowingly.

"He killed her before you could strike," Klaus adds darkly, finishing the others statement.

"And then poof! No more sheriff."

Klaus growls, and Damon half winces. "Sorry. I guess it's just too soon to joke, then."

"Obviously," He pauses as Caroline rolls over in her sleep next to him, her back facing the rest of the living room. He watches her for several moments, before turning back to Damon and continuing. "What was this vampire's name?"

"Jackson DuBois. Turned roughly 1890's in France. He was some fancy schmancy aristocrat. The dick left town before we could even stake him," Damon recites, and looks disgruntled.

Klaus leans forward. "Why were you so intent to destroy this Jackson?"

"I'd be damned if I let anything happen to Elena," He answers bluntly, his eyes hardening.

Klaus doesn't respond, knowing he feels the same way about Caroline.

After a moment of companionable silence, he finally asks, "Surely, you must have an idea where this Jackson has gone?"

Damon nods, standing up and crossing the room and picking up a stack of papers stuffed into a folder. "I got his address in Seattle, Washington. Idiot left a trail of massacres across the entire country." He chuckles. "He should be squatting in some abandoned apartments in the warehouse district."

The only sound for a while is the crackling of the fire. Damon rolls his shoulders, and stands up. "Well, I got a lady waiting upstairs. As you can imagine, she's just a _tad_ impatient." His eyebrows lift several times, smugly. "Take the guest room, if you wish."

And then he's gone, only a blur as he rushes back upstairs. Klaus lets out a drawn out sighs, and leans back against the sofa, glancing at Caroline again, before he closes his eyes.

Caroline stares at the red fabric of the couch silently, in shock. Her mind whirs as she processes information. And then it clicks.

She had heard everything. And she knows what she has to do.

/|\

They stay in the boarding house for almost a week. She sighs because everyone is too wrapped up in their own supernatural drama to bake any sympathy casseroles or lasagnas like she did when their loved ones died. There are many times when either Damon, Elena, Stefan, or Klaus come into the boarding house's kitchen to find baskets of muffins, brownies, cookies, and tons of pans of casseroles on every available surface.

"I made all of these," Caroline would growl at them, her curls tossed everywhere and apron stained with flour. Occasionally she would have smears of tomato sauce on her cheek. "And all of you are going to eat them and like it."

They ate them all with enthusiastically.

She also that time to bond with Elena and Bonnie. The latter of the two decided to have an attitude towards her, however.

"I don't understand how you can be with that monster, Caroline."

Caroline frowns at the logic and topic, seeing as they had gone over it a hundred times before, and begins to protest. "Elena forgave Damon, and they're in love! I mean, every time I visit the boarding house, those two are either having sex or so into their foreplay they barely notice I'm there."

Bonnie stands her ground. "You know Damon hasn't done what Klaus has, Care..."

"Don't talk to me about what he has done when you're sneaking around with his brother Kol," Caroline snarks back, suddenly growing vicious.

Bonnie turns red, but doesn't pursue the subject matter much longer.

At the end of the week, Caroline returned to her house, taking in its overgrown lawn, and her mom's police cruiser, which was still sitting in the driveway. Sighing, she climbs into her own car, and starts it.

She's on a deserted road when a figure appears in front of her. She gasps, and using her speed, slams her foot on the brakes. The car careens to a stop, tires squealing against the pavement, and she growls at who is in front of her.

"Dammit, Klaus!"

The man in question hops into the passenger seat with a grin, scooping up the folders that were previously occupying his seat.

"Stealing some information, love?"

Caroline pouts and slumps back into her seat.

Klaus continues, his tone slightly condescending. "You can't do this alone, love."

She outwardly bristles, turning towards him. "Yes I can!" she almost shouts indignantly.

He stares at her, his gaze level, and he's looking at her so intensely if she were alive she would be blushing a beet red. Finally, after several minutes, he lets out sigh.

"I'm coming with you."

"Don't be ridiculous," Caroline grumbles. "This doesn't involve you."

"Anything involving you automatically involves me," He shoots back, an eyebrow raising. "Always. No matter what."

She knows for a fact she's ready to kill him, but instead she grips the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white with the strain. Her jaw clenches, and she finally turns and growls at him, just the barest hint that veins are popping under her eyes.

"You don't interfere, got it?"

He wants to smile, because she's so different than her usual self and the demands are slightly out of character, but the entire situation doesn't call for it. "Only if you're hurt." He promises her, and she begins to look doubtful.

"I promise," He assures her.

She nods, her fingers pulling the gear shift out of parked, and slams her foot on the gas. The tires screech, and they are off, their surroundings a blur of green and brown, the road rolling under them.

/|\

They eventually do reach Seattle. It's cloudy and rainy, of course, and Klaus wants her to sight see first, but she snaps at him several times.

"After I'm finished," She would hiss after his several attempts. He would only blink in response, and then pull her closer, his chin resting on the top of her golden curls. She would stiffen, her arms almost shaking, and then relax at his familiar touch. Her breath lets loose, billowing into his shirt and warming his skin.

At night, her car screeches to a halt in the warehouse district, rain pouring down and soaking into her as she leaps out of the dark. Klaus follows her, slamming the silver car's door. They stare at each other wordlessly, and her head jerks to the even darker shadows. Klaus blinks; he understands what her silent command is: _stay to the shadows._

"Keep your promise," Caroline whispers to him, the words floating in between them, hanging in the night air. "I'll... snap if I need you." He nods once in response, and he disappears in a blink. But she knows he is there, always, and that thought is comforting.

The rain is pouring harder, soaking her hair and rolling down in droplets on her jacket. She begins walking, passing homeless people hunching over fires. Eventually, people become scarce, and she feels the hair on the back of her arms and neck rise. _Now or never_, she thinks grimly.

The only light around is from two stories up, in an abandoned factory corner – almost all windows. She sighs, rolling her foot, before she kicks the door open. It slams off its hinges, the loud noise resounding around the seemingly empty room.

"Jackson DuBois," She calls out, her voice hard and mocking. She slowly prowls towards the center of the room, her head tilting to the right, hair spilling across her shoulder. She repeats the vampire's name again, almost in a sing-song tone of voice. The room echoes. She hears footsteps, and then a voice chiming in from behind her.

"What does a pretty thing like you need from me?"

Caroline wants to whip around at the sudden intruder, but she wills herself to be calm. She turns around, pivoting on her heel, and she smiles falsely – almost too sweet – at the stranger in front of her.

"I take it you are Jackson DuBois?" She keep she expression friendly, but closed off.

He extends his arms, full of bravado as he smirks. On Klaus, the smirk looks open and real and genuine. On this vampire, it looks deadly. "That is _moi_. And who are you, sweetheart?"

Caroline internally flinches at the nickname that sounds so wrong coming from his lips. "A friend of Klaus'."

Jackson eyes widen, and he runs towards her with vampire speed, stopping several inches away from her. He's relatively handsome, with brown eyes and black rumpled hair. He looks shocked, but then the fake bravado and confidence is back.

"Ah," He grins. "So we finally get in touch. I have some news I think will be... beneficial for him."

She feigns interest. "We have to touch base on a few things before you can... grace him with your presence."

DuBois shrugs, his mouth splitting into another grin that reminisces a shark. "Sorry, _m__on chéri_, but what I got is only for Klaus' ears."

Caroline forces herself to look disappointed, and she thinks she is just a bit too theatrical. "Well, no information, no meeting Klaus." Her eyebrows furrow, and she smirks at him, "See how this whole thing works? Reciprocity, and what not."

It's a taunt, they both know it, and she thinks she may have gone to far and the silence stretches on. The only sound is the pounding rain, but thankfully Jackson's shoulders drop slightly. "It's concerning the doppelganger." He admits finally, his slight French accent tripping on the pronunciation of the last word.

She's all ready to kill him, but the charade isn't up yet. "Klaus doesn't like false leads, DuBois, you should know this."

He holds up his hands. "Hey, I saw her myself. Even made sure she wasn't that little runaway bitch from Bulgaria."

Caroline likes how he sums up Katherine's entire character in five words so accurately. Her blue eyes appraise him, and she can practically feel his nervousness pulsing through her. She wants to kill him now, but if she did, he would never know why.

Oh, and she wants him to know. She wants to see the recognition light up his eyes, see his expression crawl with fear and she wants to see the light finally disappear from him completely. Her hand slides behind her back, and she snaps her fingers quietly. It's quiet for several seconds, and her smirk that is aimed at the filth standing in front of her deepens, the silence lengthening in time, and then -

"You called, love?"

Jackson DuBois jumps about a foot in the air, cursing under his breath, and he genuinely looks fearful and surprised. "Is this – Klaus? I – I have news for you."

"Please, do go on," Klaus drawls from behind her, stepping forward so he's just barely next to her. His normally curly and coarse hair clings to the back of his neck from the rain. "I'm extremely interested to hear."

DuBois has the common sense to look nervous. "I have found the doppelganger."

"Really," He perks slightly. "And tell me, where did you find her?"

"Small town in Virginia. Mystic Falls, I think the name was."

There's a tense silence, and DuBois' eyes flick from Klaus' form to hers. The former was relaxed, while the latter was pacing like a graceful lioness, waiting for her right moment to strike.

"Tell me, are there any other supernatural beings in the town?" He questions, a pleasant smile forming on his face.

DuBois blinks, looking dazed. "Er, yes. Just two. The Salvatore brothers. One seems to be involved romantically with the doppelganger."

"And you did not attempt to kill the brothers?" Klaus seems to have perfected the art of seeming interested and polite.

"No," The vampire shakes his head. "Regretfully, they are older than me. Engaging them in combat would've resulted with my death, and the location of the doppelganger would have been lost. Perhaps even forever."

Klaus pauses, and says his next words with a level voice. "Did you kill any humans in the town?"

At that, Jackson DuBois grins. "Just a couple here and there. A vampires gotta eat, y'know?" He laughs, and it is the first real response she has heard from him. Caroline's fists clench with barely suppressed rage.

"I killed the sheriff, too. She knew to much. She wouldn't tell me what she knew, so I drained her and maybe messed around with her a little. I think her screams woke the entire tiny town. I barely got out of there before more of her police squad showed up."

"How unfortunate for you," Caroline spits finally, nails digging into her palm, venom dripping from her voice. "They separated you and your _plaything_."

Jackson's eyebrow lifts as he glances from her to Klaus. "She's a feisty little thing, no?" He steps towards her suddenly, his hand outreached to stroke her face. Klaus freezes, his own eyes narrowing. "I wonder what else she can do, hmm?"

Caroline snarls. "She can also bite."

He chuckles, but puts his hand down. "Ah, I get the hint. Anyway," He turns to Klaus. "How much do I get for locating the doppelganger?"

Klaus smiles amiably, but his blue eyes are like ice. "Considering I've acquired the doppelganger's position already..." He trails off, and she can hear Jackson's sudden intake of breath. "Nothing."

Jackson's jaw drops. "But I – then... then why are you here?"

This time Caroline steps forward. "You killed my mother. You remember the sheriff you '_messed around_' with, right?"

And then she sees the recognition flash in his eyes. But instead of fear, Jackson leers at her. "I could always do the same thing to you, _mon chéri," _She sees red as he continues boldly, "All you have to do is ask."

And then she lunges with her vampiric speed, hands like claws, but Jackson is ready for her. She's on top of him in a second, veins and teeth exposed to the world, and her fingernails dig into his chest, teeth snapping.

He hisses back, kicking her into a cold stone wall. It cracks under the pressure, and she is slightly dazed but on her feet within seconds. Klaus is in the shadows, his blue eyes glowing, but filled with pain. She turns back to her victim, and she crouches, read to pounce. Jackson mimics her stance, and taunts her.

"She screamed for help, you know," He laughs. They circle each other slowly. "Kept calling for someone named Caroline. I'm guessing you are that Caroline. Nice to meet you sweetheart." His head cocks to the left. "First, I bit her, then chased her around a bit. Oh, she knew about vampires, but she's so slow with her human senses, it was easy to just let each bone crack and snap-"

And then Caroline's hand plunges in between his ribs, squeezing his heart. Jackson gasps, his hands clawing at his chest as she squeezes and squeezes, teeth bared. She lifts him into the air by his heart alone, and he starts screaming otherwordly, legs flailing in pain.

Lightning flashes behind her from the wall of windows, and from the shadows Klaus watches in slight fear and awe.

"Please," Jackson whispers, his voice choked, eyes filled with desperation.

If it's possible, Caroline's hold becomes tighter. She wrenches her hand back, blood spilling out of his chest, and the squashed remains of DuBois' heart is dripping in her hands, flattened and grotesquely shaped. The vampire flops to the floor, turning gray and shriveling in on himself. She's panting, letting the heart slip from her grip and dropping to the cement ground.

Klaus likens her to Boadicea, the Amazon warrior queen, fearsome and brave and strong. _She is everything to me_, he thinks in the back of his mind, stepping forward towards her tentatively. She begins wiping her bloody hand on her jeans, rounds her shoulders back, standing straight and tall.

_Everything_, he thinks again.

Caroline is quiet for a moment, before she offers him her hand and smiles. "You said you wanted to sight see, right?"

He takes it and squeezes, smiling back.

/|\

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><p><strong>Um, did I just kill Sheriff Forbes? *runs and hides* I think I just did. Sorry this was late, by the way! I was extremely ill and this chapter was sitting around half-finished. This is the longest chapter yet, I think, a bit darker. And yes, you did detect hints of DamonElena and Kol/Bonnie, another one of my crack!ships. Hope you guys liked the chapter.**

**Please leave a review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**/|\ Tourist /|\**

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><p><strong>AN: Slight lemons ahoy... ye be warned...**

* * *

><p><strong>|\**

Caroline hates Seattle.

It's cold, it's windy, and it rains constantly. It isn't a pleasant type of rain, either – it's the big and fat rain drops that soaks through her clothes, radiating the coldness that she despises so much deep down into her bones. She's pretty sure she scowls the entire time Klaus drags her down streets to popular destinations by her hand, but if Klaus notices, he doesn't let on, only continues to talk about their surroundings soothingly.

The hand that Klaus is so eager to hold, the hand that his thumb is stroking over and over again will eternally be covered in the blood of her mother's murderer. No matter how hard she scrubs her hand, she still sees the red droplets drip down her arm, drying into sickening clumps underneath her fingernails, as if she is still holding the bleeding distorted mass of his heart in her grasp.

Needless to say, they leave Seattle shortly after that night.

There is this need growing inside of her, Caroline notices. She isn't sure what it is at first, but it's growing and ever present in the back of her mind; it's an itch that begs to be scratched. She thinks of it constantly now, how easy it would be to just give in to what it is asking her to do. But she isn't sure what this feeling results in – all she knows is that it promises bliss and no real thinking, no feelings.

They're sitting on a private jet, Klaus reading an old and thick book while she lounges next to him watching a corny romantic comedy movie. Caroline adjusts her position, pulling the head phones from her ears. Her head rolls to the side, her eyes flicking up and down his sharp profile. She sees him grin, and he closes the book and looks back at her, mimicking her position almost exactly.

"Klaus," She begins, unsure of how to begin.

"Caroline." He replies, one eyebrow lifting.

She ignores his playfully teasing look, and continues, "I need to do something."

A look of understanding flashes across his face, but he asks, "Like what?"

"That's the whole thing, though!" She throws her arms up with exasperation. "I don't know what I have to do, I just – I have to... do it."

Klaus leans forward. "And you think that once you do whatever you think you have to do, you will feel better?"

Her eyes light up and she nods. "Yes, exactly!"

She becomes concerned when he doesn't answer her for a long time, and then finally, he croaks out, "That's your switch, Caroline."

There's a beat of silence, then a quiet, "Oh."

Klaus's hand reaches out and cups her cheek. "You need to fight that switch, love. While it may be easier to just be emotionally oblivious to it all, but you won't be Caroline anymore. What makes you _you_ is going to be gone."

Caroline instinctively leans into his comforting touch, her lips pressing a small kiss to the inside of his callused palm.

She doesn't say anything else, and he accepts her silence with a sorrowful but appeasing smile.

**/|\**

Caroline is surrounded by brown cardboard boxes.

She's sprawling out on her living room floor, hair fanning out behind her as she stares at the blood spatters on the ceiling. (_She wants to scream when her brain imagines how blood could get there. Turn it off turn it off turn it off._) Something aches in the back of her throat, as if her cold and undead heart is trying to pump its way back up into her mouth. She swallows back the nausea as she pulls herself up to a sitting position, where she is sorting through hours and hours of VHS home videos.

Boxes are stacked all around her, brimming with possessions – some she doesn't remember, others she remembers with painful clarity. Her hand fumbles as she pushes the home video into the VHS player. She silently gulps as the television shows static, and then she hears muffled voices.

"_Daddy! Daddy are you watching?"_

Caroline sits there for several moments, blinking rapidly at the recorded scene.

"_Yes I am, pumpkin."_

She freezes as the camera lens focuses on a little girl with bright blonde pigtails, her fathers voice echoes around the empty room. The little girl looks only four or five, but she's spinning around with a hula-hoop, showing off to the camera and her father in the backyard. The orange plastic loop goes around and around her waist, and she sees her past younger self giggle as she falls over dramatically.

Caroline smiles slightly as she sees a young Elena, a streak of creamy skin and brown hair run around with Bonnie in the background, chasing after an escaping fat toad. The camera shakes again, and suddenly it is focusing on the patio, where her mother is emerging from their house holding a pitcher of lemonade.

Caroline lets out a quiet whimper. Her mother just looks so happy – her blonde hair seems even blonder longer, and bouncier. There are less wrinkles on her smooth face and her eyes sparkle. She couldn't recall the last time she saw her mother that happy.

"_Oh, and there the monster is!_" She hears her father's teasing voice in the back of her head, and her mother on the screen smiles wide at the zooming and shaky camera.

"_Oh Bill, don't film me. Film the girls,_" Liz chastises, turning away from her husband to pour the drinks. Condensation clings to the plastic cups.

Caroline watches with rapt fascination as her mother calls the girls for a break in the shade, and they all run off to the table. The camera follows them all – Bonnie and Elena get there first, hands dirty from the toad, but Caroline drops the hula-hoop and begins sprinting at her mother. Her mother on the screen smiles, her arms outstretched, and Caroline unconsciously leans forward to watch the moment she had lived so long ago. Her younger self leaps off the ground, reaching up for her mother, and she was just about to see herself get pulled into a warm and loving hug she barely remembers –

And then the camera goes black.

A breath escapes her as she slumps to the side, her eyes beginning to sting with unshed tears. She just wanted to see her mother one more time, just one more time. Her fingers stab at the eject button, and the old machine whirs as it pushes out the clunky black VHS tape. Her fingers struggle with her hastiness, and it breaks the tape into small pieces, the film pulled out of the side. Caroline snarls, feeling the familiar pang of fangs elongating in her mouth as she pitches the ruined article at the wall. It breaks into more pieces on impact, a loud _crash_ ricocheting around the empty room.

_(Turn it off turn it off turn it off_)

There is that itch again, the thing she wants to just dive into the most. It promises relief, it promises no more pain no more thinking, and would it that hard to just turn it –

"Caroline?"

Elena's voice interrupts her, and Caroline jumps at the intrusion, partially feeling guilty for even considering to turn off her vampire switch. She stares blankly at her friend, and Elena gives her a puzzled look in return.

It takes several moments for Caroline to connect the dots; Elena wants a response, "Yeah. I'm totally fine. I'm perfect. I'm great. Never better..."

Elena nods, pausing awkwardly. "Well, Damon and I filled up the storage truck. You good here?"

She pulls herself to her feet, ignoring the way her knees crack from sitting in the same position for so long. "Yeah, I'll bring all this to the storage unit myself."

Elena smiles, and she begins to make her way to the glass front door, clearly trying to avoid all the dried blood spatters.

Her friend's name escapes from her mouth before she can stop it. "Elena?"

Elena whips around quickly, an expectant look on her face. "Yeah?"

She breathes deeply. "Thank you for helping me. It really means a lot."

The doppelganger smiles. "You were there for me when my parents... died," Caroline resists the urge to visibly flinch. "Of course I would be here for you. I always will be."

And with that, Elena is out the door. Caroline looks at the empty boxes that are filled with her entire life surrounding her, a frown forming on her face.

In the back of her mind, the switch is still there, begging to be flipped.

**/|\**

She stays at Klaus's mansion for her mother's funeral.

She's sure her friends all mentally call her a coward – _who_ exactly would actually say that to her face? – but Caroline likes to think of it as bravery. She can't even imagine any scenario where her mother and father lay six feet under the ground, or watching them be buried as she stands idly by, powerless to help them. She cringes at the visual of them surrounded by dirt and bugs and decay in wooden boxes for the rest of eternity. So instead, she sits on the large leather couch with Rebekah, silently watching old Buffy the Vampire Slayer re-runs.

She wakes up from a nap on the couch later in the day, when the sun sets, she hustles up the stairs to Klaus's room, where he lays on the bed, sketching a picture. He is still clothed in an expensive suit, the clothes he wore to the funeral. He sees her form shadowing in the doorway, and he tosses the sketchbook aside, quietly watching her.

She can feel his stare heavy on her face, and then using her vampire speed, straddling him in barely a second, her hands gripping the side of his face as she roughly pulls his lips to her own, sucking, wanting, and taking.

He has no quarrels with her silent demands as he kisses her back, their teeth clacking, tongues battling as his own arms reach around her waist and pull her flush against him. She moans loudly, ripping his shirt off and tossing it across the rooms with fervor. He pauses for a moment when her cool hands rub against the deep scars on his back – the ones she's never questioned, only kissed dotingly when the time came around – and he grunts in her ear.

"Caroline," He says.

She ignores this, her other hand fisting in the coarse curls at the nape of his neck as her hips grind downwards, pushing him further in to the bed. Her fingernails leave crescent moon shaped marks imbedded in his skin.

"Caroline," He says.

She peppers kisses down his neck, teeth scraping the soft skin she finds there, her hand slipping in between their warm bodies, cupping the hardness she finds there eagerly, and he hisses against her, saying her name again in a breathy pant. She feels powerful, a highness that only a woman knowing exactly what she can do feels, and she revels in the only control she has in her life. He is hers, she is his, and it will always be like this. She continues her steady and deliberate ministrations against him, feeling his breath stutter as he squirms underneath her, hiding his moans.

"Caroline," He says.

His pants are gone, she's already naked and ready and aching for a blissful release. Her knees bracket his hips, and she's about to slide down his length, to take and hold and never give back, when Klaus stops her quickly with his hands, pushing her back slightly. She doesn't meet his eyes, only grunts in disapproval, and his hand pull away from her hipbones to cup her cheek, pulling her face to his own with a quick kiss. She doesn't respond, and his blue eyes open and pierce through her own.

"Caroline," He says slowly.

"_What_?" Caroline growls at him, her arousal ever growing with mounting frustration.

Klaus sighs, "You don't want to do this."

She freezes, her blood running cold.

He takes her silence as an invitation to continue, "You're just feeling stressed about the funeral, Caroline. I understand, but this," he gestures to their bodies, "won't help. It'll make you feel emptier."

Rage curdles deep down in her stomach, her muscles clenching as she glares at him. "Don't you _dare_ try to tell me what I'm feeling right now."

He says her name again, but she's already snatched her clothes off the floor and is stomping out the door, hastily sliding the fabric over her naked body.

She's out on his lawn and sprinting off into the darkness before he can even protest.

**/|\**

The Mystic Grill is closed, much to Caroline's chagrin. She leans against the locked doors, her head banging against the glass windows as she moans in disappointment.

She begins to stumble her way home, but she freezes in the middle of the road when it hits her like a ton of bricks: she has no home. She can't go back to that empty little childhood house of horrors, spattered with her mothers blood and filled with ruined memories. Caroline turns, seeing motion out of the corner of her eye, and she sees a man taking out the trash, hidden by shadows. She blinks and then smiles; it would be extremely easy to just take the life and drink, just forget about everything–

_No. I am human. I do not need to flip the switch._

A sneering voice in the back of her head interrupts her train of thought, _You don't need to feel. Everything will be gone. You can always flip the switch back on later_...

Her muscles seem to move on their own accord, and before she even knows what's happening, her hand encloses around the man's mouth, silencing his screams, and her fangs did into the side of his neck, sucking the warm lifeblood from his veins like a thief. He twitches in her arms, quickly dying, and she drops him with a sharp "_ahhh." _His body hits the cement hard, and she watches with a bland facial expression, blinking, as dribbles of blood pool away from the body.

Caroline feels the panic well up inside of her and she hunches over, about to shake the man awake, and all she can think about is how similar the position she is in now is like the one she had been in almost a week ago, caving in upon herself as Klaus held her in her home, screaming for her mother. She straightens automatically, ignoring the blood dripping down her face and the way her blonde curly hair sticks to it.

It's so tempting to switch it,_ and oh, what if I just_–

_Flip_.

She blinks, a puzzled expression forming across her face. Everything around her is so quiet. She decides it's nice.

Her eyes rake over the body of the man at her feet with polite disinterest, and she nudges it with the tip of her boot, as if expecting him to just get up and walk away, brushing imaginary dirt off of his pants. When the man doesn't move, she shrugs, turning on her heel gracefully. She begins walking down the street, casually swinging her arms as the night swallows her into it's comforting shadows.

Caroline feels absolutely nothing.

**/|\**

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><p><strong>I KNOW I HAVEN'T UPDATED I'M SORRY I'VE BEEN IN THE HOSPITAL AND I MAY HAVE TO GO BACK TO MY HOME COUNTRY, BUT YOU DON'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT MY PROBLEMS.<strong>

**I'm not happy with this chapter. I don't know... but I seriously love dark!Caroline. Here, have her with her switch flipped off. Should be fun, yeah? Can't wait for all the chaos I get to write... mwahaha...**

** **Lovely home video scene inspired by _~DJfleetfox_**

**Please leave a review!**


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